


A Dove in the Eagle's Nest

by finefeatheredfriend



Category: Ghost of Tsushima (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Gay Sex, Jin gets the happy ending he deserves, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26070013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finefeatheredfriend/pseuds/finefeatheredfriend
Summary: Hato Akabane never expected to see Jin Sakai again after he left Omi village following his father's death, but fate has caused their paths to cross once more and this time Hato's childhood crush is the hero of Tsushima. In order to find happiness with Jin, he must survive the Mongol invasion and prove his worth as a samurai. As Hato fights to make a name for himself, he sees the hand of fate bringing him closer and closer to Jin, only to have to make a terrible decision when Lord Shimura asks him to destroy the Sakai legacy and do away with the Ghost of Tsushima for good. A canon-compliant love story between Jin Sakai and original male character Hato Akabane set during the game's events.
Relationships: Jin Sakai/Hato Akabane, Jin Sakai/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	1. Act 1: The Scars Beneath Your Armor

**Author's Note:**

> So my plan is to get a chapter up every two weeks until it is done. I think I can get it finished in six chapters, but we'll see. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think, I love comments! :)  
> Also feel free to say hello on tumblr. I'm @finefeatheredgamer over there.  
> \-----------------------------------

Hato Akabane was no coward.

He stood tall, his chest puffed out and his arms stiff at his sides, prepared to meet whatever fate destiny had prepared for him. The massive Mongolian before him leered, muttering something obviously insulting to one of his comrades before slamming an elbow into Hato's gut. He flinched, bent double and then recovered, letting out a shuddering breath through his nostrils. Fury roared through him and the reckless, aimless need to break this Mongolian flooded him. His family had been named for the red glint in their shiny black hair, the remnants of a furious demon who had made them fierce warriors. His mother had tried to temper his "red feathers" by naming him after the meek mannered dove, taught him to be gentle, and kind...but these barbarians deserved no kindness. He glared balefully at his captors, his fathomless brown eyes taking in the height and breadth of these massive warriors. Sunlight glinted across his hair, revealing that subtle red glow, a fire he wished he could spread to consume these bastards.

They had destroyed the village, ransacking and burning as they went. Even now Hato could hear the cries of the women and children nearby and the rage in his belly, along with the pain from the blow, burned within him. If only all the samurai had not died on Komoda beach. If only he had a katana of his own in his hand. If only.

One of the huge warriors yelled something at Hato in his guttural tone and before he could respond, a massive hand shoved him to his knees and his hands were bound behind his back. His eyes rolled up to meet those of the Mongolian who was manhandling him. Over his shoulder Hato saw a figure hop lightly up onto the wooden fence that had once protected his village. The Mongol grunted a guttural "heh?" turning to look at what Hato had now realized was a warrior come to help them.

"Mongol dogs!" he yelled at the top of his voice to grab the attention of his captor again. It worked. The Mongol lifted a gloved fist and drove it mercilessly into Hato's jaw, shaking his world and making his teeth rattle in their sockets. For a moment, he thought he had blacked out, but then he shook his head and glared up once more, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "No, to call you a 'dog' is just an insult to dogs. You're a Mongol pig," he snarled, not caring if they could understand what he was saying, only caring that they did not look over at the grass that waved lightly in the opposite direction the wind was blowing.

There was a jingle of a bell landing with a muted musical _thud_ nearby after bouncing twice in the sand. It drew not only Hato's attention, but the attention of the nearest guard, who muttered something in Mongolian and stepped toward it. Obviously disturbed, he called out to his comrades, who followed him as he investigated the direction it had come from. Grass shuddered, still moving opposite the direction of the gentle wind. From within it, there was a dark form, the form Hato had seen hop over the fence.

Hato got a good look at his armor as the man slid from the grass behind the Mongolians and rolled beneath a piered hose nearby. A samurai! But...he was sneaking around, not openly challenging his foes. Hato frowned. That was not the bushido way.

The samurai was surveying the area and as his gentle brown eyes took in information, his gaze caught Hato's. Hato's eyes widened in surprise. He had been raised in the village this man was from, had helped his father deliver repaired armor to his home, and had interacted with him as a boy. This was Lord Jin Sakai. He had survived the battle of Komoda beach! Hato's mouth dropped open, unsure if it was to call out to him for help or simply to affect an even more surprised appearance, but regardless, Lord Sakai raised a hand to his lips, beckoning Hato to be silent. Hato obeyed. Lord Sakai rolled out the back of the building and slunk around to another patch of grass, tossing something that hissed and sputtered with sparks over his shoulder as he did so. It landed amid the suspicious Mongolians still gathered nearby and exploded in a cloud of thick black smoke.

The next moments were pure chaos. Hato saw the lithe form of Lord Sakai dart into the billowing smoke and heard the sound of fine metal clanging against armor. There was a grunt and then the sharp scent of blood was added to the acrid tang of smoke and the earthy smell of cooking meat. Hato swallowed, sure that Lord Sakai had just been cut down by one of those brutes. From amid the smoke he heard yet more clanging and then a harsh cry of, "Damn!" in Japanese.

Hato breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that Lord Sakai was still alive. There was a feral growl and Hato watched the samurai's billowing robes catch the smoke as he moved, whirling with the ferocity of a demon, his blade slitting the throats of three Mongolians and then lodging into the last man's throat with the sound of teeth biting into a crisp apple. The bodies fell heavily to the ground around them. Lord Sakai stood for a moment, breathing heavily. Lifting his blade, he slid it swiftly across the padding in his armor at the crook of his elbow, wiping away the blood that tinged the bright metal. In a single motion, he continued the sword's path from his arm to his side, the ringing weapon returning home with a click.

Lord Sakai looked up, meeting Hato's eyes. Some of his jet black hair had escaped his headband and he reached up a finger to swipe it behind his ears with an impatient gesture.

"You're safe now," he assured Hato, approaching.

"Thank you, my lord," Hato murmured, the words slurred by his sore tongue and jaw. He was still astonished by what had happened. He felt himself trembling with excitement. This was his lord, the man whose family the Akabane clan had provided armor to for generations. Lord Sakai pulled his tanto from its sheath and cut the bindings at Hato's wrists. The touch of his fingers against his skin was delicate, and gentle. His hands were softer than Hato was expecting, and the features of his face, no longer pulled into an angry grimace, were friendly and warm. "My lord," Hato repeated, sliding his hands over his so that Lord Sakai could not remove his touch. Hato knew this was foolish. “You survived the battle!”

As the youngest son in a family of armorers, Hato was somewhat beneath Jin Sakai in caste, but still, he could not resist the barest touch from this man he had admired from afar. Hato had known him since childhood, was nearly the same age as him and had interacted with him occasionally, often catching glimpses of him sparring with his uncle and taking walks in the woods outside of Omi with his mother. Then he had vanished, gone to his uncle's castle when his father Lord Kazumasa Sakai had died. Hato had not thought to see him again, and now...he knew that his touch, if unwanted, could be justification for a caning.

But Lord Sakai did not pull away.

One of his brows did arch in surprise at Hato grabbing his hands, but he seemed to lean into the touch, so Hato went on. "My lord, please, let me repay you for your kindness here. This village would have been destroyed if it were not for you. I can repair your armor, make you some food."

"I..." Sakai began to object, but then he winced and went to one knee. He pulled one of his hands from Hato's and touched his side, his fingers coming away sticky with blood.

"My lord, you're hurt!" Hato exclaimed, reaching out a hand without thinking and touching the place where his armor had failed. Lord Sakai sucked in a breath and groaned, his own hand covering Hato's and then drawing it away.

"I'll be fine," he forced out, and Hato bowed his head respectfully, now mortified at his forwardness.

"Of course, my lord. I meant no disrespect." Lord Sakai laughed at that, actually laughed a quiet, huffing chuckle, as though the idea of Hato expressing concern was a particularly funny joke. Then he cried out again, groaning and holding his side. "My lord!"

"I'm fine," he gritted out again through teeth clenched tight against the pain. Hato could see his eyes watering with the agony of it, before he shook himself and seemed to concentrate, sitting with a quiet exhalation. Folding his legs in the stance of Buddha meditating, he rested his hands on his knees. His eyes closed beneath their thick caterpillar brows and his face went blank. Hato watched with fascination as he meditated, a soft noise of pain and resolve barking out of him as he focused his attention somewhere outside of himself.

As though sheer force of will would heal him, Jin Sakai's brows furrowed and his torso twitched with effort. When his eyes slid open, Hato saw that color had returned to his cheeks, and he moved more readily, seeming to wince less whenever his movements tugged on his wound.

"That was amazing, my lord."

"It was discipline, and nothing more," he responded, sucking air in through his nostrils and blowing out a breath. He stood and helped Hato to his feet as well. Hato bowed low again, his heart racing. Lord Sakai returned the bow readily.

"I am honored, my lord." Lord Sakai smiled like the sun peering behind storm clouds, a rare and welcome sight.

"Really, Hato Akabane? You think I don't recognize you?" Hato's eyebrows rose in astonishment.

"My lord!"

"It has been too long, Hato." Hato smiled back at him, pleased beyond measure that he was remembered.

"Let me make you some dinner. This way, my lord," Hato gestured, indicating that Lord Sakai should follow. He led the samurai to his house, a simple bamboo structure that also served as his workshop since he had moved south. Bits of leather, bamboo, linen and silk were strewn about the work area, and Hato felt his cheeks burning at the mess. Lord Sakai seemed not to notice, focused as he was instead on the mostly finished set of armor Hato had hanging in the corner of his home.

"This is beautiful work," Lord Sakai noted.

"Thank you, my lord."

"Jin, please," Lord Sakai corrected.

"Jin," Hato answered, trying the name out on his tongue. "How did you remember me, my lord...er Jin?" Jin turned and gifted him with another gentle smile.

"How could I forget the great Akabane clan with their fiery hair and magic armor," he teased gently. The Akabane clan did not really have red hair, per se, it was more of an orange-brass color where the hairs split and could be seen as a sheen of warmth within the black hair in sunlight or by the light of a fire. Nonetheless, they were known for it. Hato's own red-black hair was tied into a top knot at the crown of his head, the split ends a fiery aura sprouting from his otherwise jet black hair. He smiled sheepishly.

"I understand you remembering my family, my lord, but me?"

"Don't _you_ remember?" Jin asked, sadness suffusing his handsome features. Hato frowned. He remembered, it just was not an entirely good memory. He gave a small chuckle so not to be rude.

“I don't think your friend Ryuzo liked me very much after that day.”

“I don't think Ryuzo likes many people,” Jin replied with a chagrined laugh.

"The way he came flying into my father's house...”

“AKABANE! HAAAATOOOO AKABAAAAANEEEEE!”

Hato startled from where he had been polishing his father's tools and whirled to find Ryuzo darting toward him with wide, frantic eyes and a badly bloodied nose. “Your brothers! They're beating Jin to death! The bastards!”

“What?” Hato asked dumbly, but Ryuzo accepted no time for understanding, instead he snatched Hato by the front of his linen blouse and drug him forward and out of the house.

“Bring your wooden sword!”

“I don't have a wooden sword!”

Ryuzo spat an angry sound and dashed to a stand of bamboo nearby, snapping one off at its base and tossing it at Hato once he had broken off the leafy top.

“Here!” he snapped, “Hurry up!”

Hato followed Ryuzo as he trotted away like a madman, swinging his own wooden sword. Hato couldn't help but be a little jealous. He wanted to be samurai too, but his father had told him that path was for his older brothers. He was to tend to their armor working business and help with the accounts.

But now, seeing his two brothers laying into Jin Sakai, the son of their lord, Hato knew he must summon a warrior's heart. Surveying the scene of the fight quickly, it was clear to Hato what had happened. His brothers and a few boys from the village had challenged Jin Sakai to a match and then ganged up on him. Ryuzo had already flung himself back into the fray, stabbing and slashing with his wooden sword. Even with Hato's assistance, this was hardly a fair fight. It was his two older brothers and three more boys from Omi village against Jin, Ryuzo, and now, Hato as well. With a little growl, the most ferocious sound his thirteen-year-old lungs could muster, he called out to his brothers.

“Washi! Hakuchō!” Hato cried, his voice trembling a little. His brothers were skilled with their wooden swords and older than him by three and five years. They turned with menace clear on their faces.

“Stay out of this, little dove,” Washi mocked. Hato forced himself to stand taller, puffing out his chest.

“No. You think this is honorable? You think this is a fair fight?”

“He challenged us,” Hakuchō informed him, his face cold as he jutted an accusing finger toward Jin Sakai.

“To a one-on-one spar, not a massacre, you demon,” Ryuzo snarled, held back now by Jin's hand on his shoulder. Jin, for his part, was silent, though he looked furious and embarrassed. There was a welt on his left cheek, and a marred patch of skin that oozed blood.

“He is our lord's son,” Hato pointed out, afraid, his heart beating hard in his chest. “What will father say?”

“Father doesn't have to know, does he?” Washi demanded, a threat in his words. “And our little lord here won't tell anyone what happened because he's too prideful to admit that he can't finish a fight that he started.” The three village boys were watching the brothers arguing attentively, waiting for their cue to continue beating Ryuzo and Jin.

“I _will_ tell father,” Hato declared, clenching his jaw, his grip slick with sweat on the bamboo stick Ryuzo had given him, but he was prepared to fight.

The blow came out of nowhere, knocking him hard to the ground. Hakuchō had not struck with his sword, but with the broad palm of his hand, slapping Hato hard enough across the mouth to knock him off his feet. Hato stared at the sand and grass beneath him for a moment, utterly furious. His free hand clenched in the dirt and he tightened his fingers around a handful of sand before looking up at his brother with eyes watering from the pain of the blow.

“You fight without honor,” he hissed, “and so will I.” With that, Hato flung the handful of sand into his brother's face and threw himself at him, clambering onto his back and beating him about the ears with his bamboo stick. Washi tried to pluck Hato from Hakuchō's back, but he clung like a barnacle to a ship, continuing the furious beating with all the strength he could muster.

Emboldened by Hato's attack, Ryuzo and Jin turned their attention to the village boys, who surrendered and scrambled away, crying out as they stumbled over stones and roots in their haste to leave.

“That's right!” Ryuzo called after them, “you louts! You honorless sons of whores!”

“Ryuzo,” Jin murmured in surprise, one hand hovering over his injured cheek as he scolded his friend for his words.

“Why are you arguing? You know I'm right. You, you big bullies, how dare you!” Ryuzo screeched, and now he laid into Hakuchō and Washi, though his blows landed on Hato as well in his rage. Seeing that there was no more entertainment in beating and harassing Jin, the two older brothers flung Hato away. Hakuchō wiped blood from his lip and touched his eye tenderly.

“You will pay for that,” he snarled. “Father won't be back until tomorrow and you have to come home sometime, little dove,” he threatened, and then they were both gone.

Hato sat in the dirt on his knees, panting and taking in his injuries. Everything ached and he felt blood dripping from a cut over his right eye. Before he could react, Ryuzo struck him hard across the shoulders with his wooden sword.

Yelping, Hato blurted an objection.

“What was that for?” he cried, fighting back tears of pain.

“Your brothers fought without honor, ganged up on Jin. You are responsible for the actions of your family,” Ryuzo told him imperiously, raising his chin in defiance and holding out his wooden sword so that the tip pointed at Hato's face. Hato blinked and considered arguing, but it wasn't necessary. Jin put a hand on Ryuzo's shoulder.

“Ryuzo,” he said, a cross note in his voice. “Go.”

“Lord Sakai will see you punished, dog,” Ryuzo promised Hato, and Jin's fingers clenched hard on his bony shoulder.

 _“Enough,_ Ryuzo. Go,” he repeated, this time with a tinge of authority and reproach in his tone. Ryuzo looked at him, opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it. Instead he spat in the dirt just in front of Hato and stormed away. Hato bowed low to the ground, prostrating himself to Jin.

“I am sorry for my brothers, my lord.” A gentle hand touched Hato's shoulder and he looked up.

“Your brother's actions were not yours. What is your name? I have forgotten.”

“Hato, my lord.”

“Well, Hato Akabane, I thank you for your help.” Hato opened his mouth to answer, but the other boy cut him off with a gesture of impatience. “But I trust that _no one_ will hear of this fight. Not even your father.” Jin's jaw clenched hard and an angry glint surfaced in his clear brown eyes. Hato swallowed his objections and nodded. Jin's message was clear – he didn't want anyone knowing of his near defeat, didn't want anyone, especially his father or his uncle, to know that he had been saved by someone who was not even trained to fight as a samurai.

“Yes, my lord.” Jin helped Hato to his feet and handed him a silk cloth to wipe his eye and began to limp away. He paused after a moment, and turned back halfway.

“Hato...you can spend the night in my house. Stay there until your father returns.”

It was a kindness Hato had not expected. Jin was sparing him the beating he was sure to get from his brothers.

“Thank you, my lord,” he muttered.

“Well? Are you coming?” Jin asked gruffly. Hato trotted after him, using the bamboo rod as a walking staff.

"You hid in the attic until your father returned," Jin recalled with a small smile. "I remember hearing later that you got quite the beating, along with your brothers." Hato turned away, opening a bottle of sake and offering some to Jin, who took it readily.

"My father felt we were all involved," Hato chuckled. “I had to tell him about the fight. It wasn't right to hide what my brothers had done.”

"It didn't matter. My uncle caught me practicing with my father's sword later that day, saw the wound on my cheek." Jin touched a hand his scarred cheek absently. The pink lines there served as a reminder of the fight even now.

"You must have been out for blood after they attacked you like that," Hato laughed, taking the sake jug from Jin. He took a sip and then handed it back so that he could begin to prepare them some food. Unwrapping some salted fish and adding rice to a pot, Hato puttered around his small home as Jin sat next to the fire in the center of the room.

"A samurai does not let his emotions control his actions. My uncle taught me that, reinforced it that day. I never challenged your brothers again," Jin said, sounding amused and just a little annoyed at the memory of the fight. "How are they now, Hato?"

"Hakuchō and Washi are fighting somewhere in the north on behalf of your uncle. I'm not quite sure where they are right now. They left me behind to protect the shop...and the village," he added, feeling shameful.

"You did your best, Hato," Jin assured him, handing the sake jug back for him to have a turn. He gave a satisfied sigh. "It's been a while since I had any good sake," he admitted, and Hato knew he was serious. He had drained nearly half the jug and was looking rosier and friendlier than when he had first stepped into the house and sat by the cookfire. "How is your father?" Jin asked seriously after a moment.

Hato blanched.

"He...he died last winter. He was sick. It's why we moved south. It's warmer here in the winter." Jin hummed regretfully.

"I am sorry." Hato felt a sad smile take over his features as he remembered his father. He was stern and had a temper like the rest of the Akabane clan, but he only punished Hato when he had really deserved it.

There was a thoughtful silence for a long moment.

"When I rescue my uncle from Castle Kaneda, I will find out where your brothers are, Hato. I will let you know they are safe,” Jin promised. Hato swallowed. His jealousy over his brothers becoming samurai without him aside, he was worried about them. Were they alright? Had the Mongols captured or killed them?

"The food is nearly ready, my...Jin." Jin nodded, only half listening. His eyes kept sliding to the armor Hato was working on. It was designed to be light, silent and strong. It was sewn in the style of simple traveler's attire, but with enforced padding along the torso and across the shoulders, a tall collar made of woven bamboo slices and silk to protect the neck. The cloak was of linen and was dyed a deep blue-black with flowers Hato had gathered from the swamp nearby.

"That armor is beautiful," Jin murmured again, standing and taking a closer look at it. Hato finished the last of the sake jug and opened another he had stashed. It was amazing the Mongolians had not found it when they raided his house. Lord Sakai's interruption of their takeover was likely the only thing that had saved it. He deserved to drink as much of Hato's sake as he wished. Hato handed him the new jug and Jin thought a moment before taking it. "Keep giving me sake and I will have to stay the night."

"You may stay as long as you wish, Jin. Come, sit. Dinner is ready." They ate, quietly reminiscing their childhoods, Hato feeling his cheeks growing warm with drink. Jin kept commenting on the quality of the armor and Hato glowed with pride, explaining how he had woven not only bamboo, but carefully smelted pieces of iron throughout the weave of the armor.

"I had planned on fighting in this. I should have fought at Komoda."

"You should be glad you didn't," Jin said darkly, his face growing stiff with some painful memory before he took another drink of sake.

"I have never been given the chance to fight. I am more valuable doing my trade, I guess," Hato said, not without some venom in his tone. He would never become a samurai if he was not given the chance to prove himself as anything other than an armorer. Jin met his gaze from across the fire.

"You sound like Ryuzo."

"Not all of us are handed our fate...My lord," Hato added quickly, lest Jin take offense. Jin just hummed a sound of thoughtful agreement. "Come, this talk is sobering me. Let's have one more," Hato said, pulling down another stashed bottle. Jin accepted it, his face looking drowsy in the warm light of the fire. His eyes went distant as he stared at the flames and a line furrowed between his brows. "Are you alright?" Hato asked him after several minutes of silence had passed in which Jin drained much of the new jug. He seemed to realize this and jutted the bottle back toward Hato in a gruff motion. Hato accepted it, but Jin still had not given his answer. "My lord?"

"I'm fine," Jin told him quietly.

But when Jin thrashed in the night, when he curled in the agony of his dream, when he rolled off his own goza mat and onto Hato's, Hato knew that he was not fine. Surprised to find the samurai's body suddenly pressed against his, Hato blinked, coming fully awake and moving to allow Jin to settle against him. The samurai made another low sound of distress in his sleep until Hato, shifting slowly so as not to wake him, pulled him closer and shushed him. Jin blinked awake despite his efforts and Hato was caught with his fingers gently touching the scar on Jin's cheek.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Jin put a hand over his own chest where his heart thundered, still unsettled by the nightmare, the slaughter at Komoda beach. He had dreamed the scent of blood, the screams of his comrades, the terror on the faces surrounding him. The blood pooled in the sand until it was mud, bodies twitching with pain, arrows jutting from chests and legs and arms... The memory of that terrible battle was carved into Jin, just as much a scar as the one on his face.

“It's alright, my lord. Go back to sleep,” Hato murmured. Accepting his reassurance, Jin forced his eyes to slid shut again and allowed himself to be pulled into a tighter embrace before letting a deep, and this time dreamless, sleep overtake him.

Hato awoke before Jin and rose, moving away from the sleeping samurai and walking to the armor he had been working on. It was done, or nearly so. All it needed as an embroidered symbol of a feather in red and it would be complete. Instead, his heart aching a bit at the loss, he sewed two triangles, one sitting atop the other within a circle, upon the breast and the cloak. When he was finished he tacked a carefully written note to the armor stand within a tube of bamboo.

The Akabane family had served the Sakai and Shimura clans for generations. Only recently had they moved away from Omi village and to the southern island for the health of his father. It was time for the Akabane family to serve once more. While Jin Sakai still lived, it was Hato's duty to ensure that he was safe. That his safety meant a sacrifice to Hato's own happiness was nothing to Hato. He had admired Jin for nearly his entire life, though Jin had hardly known him. Hato wanted to become samurai, wanted to be a warrior. But for now, Hato decided, he was content being Lord Sakai's armorer.

Jin awoke, blinking against the shaft of sunlight that had slid between two of the bamboo slats that made up Hato's home. A cuckoo sang somewhere outside. It must be late morning. He groaned softly, his head aching from the copious sake he had drunk the night before. Feeling more than a little guilty, he sat upright. His uncle sat in Castle Kaneda and he had spent his evening getting drunk with an old acquaintance. Jin had never spent much time with Hato as a boy aside from the day of the fight, but he remembered Hato watching him from afar. He had often showed off when he knew that Hato was in the bushes just outside the clearing where he honed his skills. Jin would slice through the air with his little wooden katana, darting and dashing and hollering threats to invisible foes. He had never known quite why he felt the need to impress this quiet boy who watched him from the shadows, but now, as he felt something stirring in his chest at the realization that he was lying on Hato's goza mat, he thought he understood.

Forcing himself to his feet with another small groan of pain at the throbbing in his head, Jin looked around the house for Hato. He was nowhere to be found.

In the corner still hung the magnificent armor that Hato had crafted. To Jin's surprise, his family emblem was embroidered upon the chest. A bamboo tube hung from the neck of the armor form. Reaching out a hand, Jin took it and opened the letter within.

_"Lord Sakai,_

_It has been too long since the Akabane family has served the Sakai warriors. While your father's armor may reside in Omi still, I have finished this armor for you so that you may strike terror into the hearts of the Mongols from the shadows. It may not be the old way, but I know that you must do whatever it takes to save our people. This armor was made to be silent and blend into darkness. It will keep you safe from all but the worst blows. Wear it well, my lord. My heart, and the heart of your people go with you. If ever you are in need of repair, or succor, you need but come here and I will serve you._

_Your humble servant,_

_Hato Akabane."_


	2. Act 1: Within Night's Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unable to stop thinking about him, Jin has something special made for Hato. He brings it to him and finds himself in Hato's embrace, only to realize that he is taking advantage of Hato's loyalty. Hato encounters something Jin leaves behind and is left to wonder why the samurai vanished with no more explanation for his rejection.

Jin sat in the onsen pool, forcing himself to relax. While he wanted to fight nonstop, to push toward the goal of freeing his uncle, he knew that if he did not care for his injuries, he could help no one. Though he had hid the severity of his recent injury from Hato, the small stab wound to his side was sore, and the area around it was bruised even now, a week after the occurrence. The healing waters of the onsen soothed it, and he tipped his head back, letting his eyes slide closed as the sulfur-scented steam rose around him. Red maple leaves dropped in soft whispers on the surface of the water and nearby a Black-naped Oriole sang. It was one of his mother's favorite birds, but his mother was not who was on his mind.

Despite his uncle's capture, despite Yuna's pushing him to turn away from the bushido code, despite his worry for her brother Taka, and his concern about Lord Ishikawa's student-turned-enemy Tomoe and whoever had killed Lady Masako's family, Jin's mind kept turning to one person - Hato Akabane. Over and over again Hato's sharp-featured face slipped into his mind, the keen black-brown eyes and kind smile a welcome respite from everything else bothering him. The words from Hato's letter kept returning to his mind: _"My heart, and the heart of your people go with you."_ Jin sighed deeply, forcing himself to breathe, to calm. He was just lonely. That was all. This was no time for the things that kept crossing his mind, the yearning for touch that he had not had in ages, from either a man or a woman.

_Stop thinking, Jin. For one moment, just stop thinking._

Jin could not. His mind was rushing, alighting like a bird on various topics, but always, always landing back on Hato. His slick red-black hair. His bright eyes and gentle manner. The way his brows crinkled in the middle when he was frustrated, or thinking. The way his cheekbones soaked up the light of the fire. The way his face glowed with the warmth of the sake. The way his expression looked grieved as he held Jin in the night, comforted him through a nightmare...

Jin could feel his skin burning with embarrassment. Hato would not think of him like that, only saw him as a master, someone who had taken a fine set of armor from him. Jin had to do something to repay his kindness. What did Hato want more than anything? To be samurai. Of course. Just like Ryuzo, but less angry about it, less tense when the subject arose. Climbing out of the onsen, Jin dressed and called his horse, riding toward a nearby crossroads he had heard was being guarded by Mongols.

Jin continued working, fighting Mongols, helping Ishikawa with his hunt for Tomoe, helping Lady Masako find out who had killed her family and, of course, helping Yuna free her brother Taka. The man was a brilliant blacksmith so Jin, feeling only a little foolish, asked him a favor once he was safely out of the Mongol's clutches and settled into Komatsu Forge. Jin gave him very specific instructions and Taka nodded along, apparently only too delighted to do Jin this favor. Jin, of course, provided him with all the materials he needed and after they had agreed upon a design, Taka chirped,

“I should be able to finish it in a week. Come back then and the blades will be ready for you, Jin.”

“Thank you, Taka.” Jin vowed to return and bid Taka to stay safe while he was gone. In the meantime, he still had to assist Lord Ishikawa in the next step of their search for Tomoe.

The next few days did not allow Jin much time to dwell on Hato and whatever feelings had surfaced toward him. He was too wrapped up in helping Ishikawa hunt Tomoe. The old man could be infuriating, but he knew the way of the samurai, and after Tomoe, would perhaps accept a new student, so Jin gingerly brought up the topic of Hato.

"I have no need for another student, Sakai," Ishikawa said simply in his gravelly tone. "He sounds better suited to serve either you or your uncle, though if he is half as prideful as that Ryuzo, he will turn down the offer outright."

"I think he would welcome any opportunity to become samurai."

"Hmm. And what of his armor work? What of his father's craft? If he falls in battle, it will be lost."

"If he falls in battle, _Hato_ will be lost," Jin snapped, feeling suddenly out-of-sorts and deeply distressed at the idea of Hato dying. He had lost enough already. Ishikawa studied Jin for a moment and gave a facial shrug.

"I do not foresee Lord Shimura turning down a willing warrior, Sakai. But I would take care that you do not get too wrapped up with anyone in these times."

"Not like you with Tomoe?" Jin asked in a testy tone. Ishikawa raised a brow at that.

"I will accept your anger, Jin, but not your disrespect. I owe you no explanation. Tomoe is my burden. Make sure that Hato does not become yours." With that, Lord Ishikawa spurred his horse and rode ahead of Jin, but his words stuck with him.

Another week passed and finally, Jin had a moment to breathe, to pick up the gift he had requested Taka make.

Taka was more than happy to see him, delighted that Jin appreciated his craftsmanship. Jin looked over the custom-made set of swords, a katana and a tanto. The saya that sheated the swords were painted dark black and along them ran one solid red line. The tangs had a bronze bird inlaid within them, and the cords tied intricately around it were dark black with a single red thread woven through them. They shone with oil and newness when Jin pulled them from their saya, appreciating the subtle inlay of feathers all along the cutting edge. Simple, but elegant, and perfect for Hato. He placed a hand on Taka's shoulder and smiled.

“This is beautiful work, Taka. I am certain Hato will love it.”

“You must bring him to meet me, my lord. Any armorer who worked for your family must be incredibly talented. I wonder if he would share some of his secrets?”

“I'll be sure to ask him,” Jin promised with a small smile. Eager to give the gifts, but knowing he had other responsibilities, he rode toward a fishing village he had heard was taken over by Mongols. On his way, Jin allowed himself to stop at a peaceful pond with a massive cypress tree growing at its center. Needles dropped here and there into the water and curious fish nibbled at them. Centering himself, he pulled paper and a writing brush from his satchel and sat, staring out over the water as the sun rose behind him.

What should he meditate on?

Victory?

Hope?

From within the needles of the cypress tree, a mourning dove cooed.

Hato...?

Jin stared out across the glistening water, letting the cool morning breeze flutter his cloak. The cloak Hato had made his by sewing his family emblem onto it. Jin inhaled, still smelling Hato's house on the material. Cedar, bamboo and sweet incense. Jin remembered the feeling of Hato's hand upon his cheek all those nights ago and swallowed before beginning to write.

_Gentle mourning dove_

_How beautiful your feathers_

_Soft beneath my touch._

Jin scribbled a line beneath it to separate it from his next piece and let his eyes go distant.

_Hato I think we_

_Should perhaps curl together_

_Within night's embrace._

Embarrassed at his own candor, even in his personal poetry, Jin felt himself blushing and cursed at himself under his breath before continuing. He had often used poetry to sort out his feelings about things, and this was no exception. After a long moment, he wrote again.

_A gentle wind guides_

_Pushing on to where you are_

_I will follow it._

_What longing I have_

_I ache for your soft touches_

_Despite everything._

"Damn," Jin murmured, feeling his cheeks glowing with both desire and embarrassment. He scribbled out the poorly written poems in an apoplectic motion of ink and brush, cursing his foolish heart. Gathering his things, he shook his head at himself and pushed onward to tasks more pressing than pining after a crush from his childhood.

Jin rode to the captured fishing village, forcing thoughts of what his uncle would say about his smoke bombs and bell lures away. It took him an hour of sneaking around the camp, slitting Mongol throats, and climbing across roofs, but soon the village was safe. One of the grateful peasants offered him some soup, and a place to sleep, but this last he refused, telling them that he had other matters to attend to. He felt bad for so rudely turning down their generosity, but Hato's village was only ten miles away. If Jin left now, he would reach the village by dark.

Closing his eyes and trying to decide if he should allow for this ridiculous distraction, Jin was surprised when he felt a gentle wind at his back, pushing him toward Hato's village as though it knew the silly poem he had written. Jin took it as a sign of approval and spurred his horse onward. Even riding at a comfortable pace, he still reached the village a bit before dark. It had been much improved upon since three weeks or so before. The burning refuse had been cleared away and bodies had been properly buried. The smoke from several houses' cook fires rose in the air, smelling of fish and rice and chicken. Though he was not hungry, Jin's stomach growled in appreciation.

Nearing the familiar bamboo house, Jin strapped Hato's new sword set to his back and called out his name through the shoji doors.

"Just a moment," came Hato's voice, and Jin smiled when he heard a clatter of instruments and supplies. Hato slid the door open, his eyes going a little wide when he recognized Jin. "My lord! Please, come in." He slid the door more open and stepped aside with a small bow. Jin walked inside, pulled the door shut and grabbed the sword set from his back, cradling the katana and tanto on his outstretched arms before bowing to Hato.

"One kindness deserves another, my friend. This armor is exquisite. I know you wish to be samurai. Allow me to speed you on your way." Hato blinked in surprise, surveying the swords as though he could hardly believe that they were real. That there were two swords, a set, spoke volumes. Only samurai carried two swords.

"My lord," Hato began, his voice trembling with emotion, "this is too kind. It is too much." Jin jutted the swords toward him again.

"It is not enough. You gave up this armor for me. You have served me and my family well. And I know you will continue to do so. As soon as I have freed my uncle, I will implore him to take you as another samurai in his training. But first, you will need a samurai's swords. Please. Hato. Take them. I had them made for you." Hato met Jin's eyes, his own a little bright even in the dim lighting of the lantern hanging on the wall.

Hato put his hands on the swords, his fingers brushing against Jin's. Jin's hands were warm, and his face friendly. There was something ineffable about his expression that made Hato feel...wanted. Taking the swords, his gaze scanned them, swallowing when he saw the bronze bird on the hilt, touching the fine glaze that covered the sheath. He set them aside and bowed deeply to Jin.

"It is my honor to serve you, my lord," Hato murmured, his voice thick now with emotion that he forced back. Jin was giving him the opportunity he had always wanted, was offering to him freely a fate he had pined for his entire life. Overwhelmed by the unexpected kindness and by emotions he could not quite explain, Hato fell to his knees and bowed at Jin's feet.

“Hato, please, it is an honor you deserve.” Jin forced him upright, pulling him to his feet. His grip on Hato's arm stayed for longer than was absolutely necessary, and when he met Hato's gaze, there was a warmth in his eyes that made Hato swallow.

“Are you hungry, my lord?”

“No, not hungry. But I wondered if you would show me what skills you know with the blade. I'm sure you have studied on your own...?”

“I have, my lord.” Jin smiled.

“Good. Then you may spar with me. If I win, you have to stop calling me 'my lord,'” he teased. Hato tried not to let his eyes bug out at the friendliness of the challenge, at the obvious implication that Jin saw him as his equal.

Hato knew he had no hope of winning, but he still tried his best. Stepping into a clearing within the forest just outside the village, they began their bout with just enough light to spare from the setting sun. They started slow, their blades rapping together with satisfying rings that sent a thrill through Hato each time they connected, vibrating up his arm to his shoulder.

“Your form is excellent,” Jin commented, and Hato felt pride swell within him.

“I often practiced with my brothers to learn where swords strike armor. Wherever was most commonly hit, I reinforced.”

“A good strategy,” Jin answered, swinging up abruptly with an attack that Hato was barely able to parry. “Come now, attack me, let's see what you know.” Hato parried two more strikes before he obeyed, throwing himself at Jin. Jin parried the strike easily, their swords singing as Jin's blade slid up Hato's, stepping behind and around him. Next Hato knew, Jin was in front of him, behind him once more and then back again, sword swinging in an unavoidable arc. Terror briefly threaded through Hato as he raised his blade in a desperate attempt to protect himself, but he was not quick enough. The very tip of Jin's katana stopped just beneath Hato's chin, close enough and fast enough that it sliced off an overly long hair in his neat goatee. Hato was breathing heavily, his eyes wide as he stared at Jin, who smirked.

Jin tipped Hato's chin up gently, careful to keep his blade steady. He stepped closer, twisting his body and stepping in closer so that the length of his blade crossed his chest and his face was next to Hato's. His brown eyes stared into Hato's and he leaned down, the both of them panting with effort.

Hato dropped his weapon, submitting utterly to Jin's control.

“My lord,” he whispered.

“No,” Jin reminded him with a small smile. “'Jin.'”

“Jin,” Hato agreed, and he pushed against the back of Jin's blade with a finger. Jin removed it from beneath Hato's chin readily. Heart beating a wild staccato in his chest, Hato felt overcome with emotion. His eyes dilated and his cheeks flushed. Every ounce of want that Hato felt for Jin overtook him and without another second's thought, he stepped forward and planted a kiss recklessly on Jin's lips, letting his body rule where his mind should control. Almost instantly, Hato leapt back, but not before Jin threw out a hand in a lightning-fast motion and grabbed the front of his linen blouse, fisting his fingers hard in the material. Hato shook with terror. The moment of long silence seemed to last an eternity, but Jin finally broke it.

"So...your heart goes with me, Hato?" Jin said softly, his voice flat. Hato's own words from his letter, come back to haunt him now. He struggled in Jin's grip. He had gone too far, been too bold. Jin's gaze was intense, and Hato thought he saw anger there...

...and then Jin was upon him, all grasping hands and seeking lips, kissing him, nibbling at his jaw, his hands grabbing frantically at Hato's hair, knocking it out of the neat top knot he always kept it in.

Barely imagining that this was real, Hato leaned into the touch, moaning softly, his own fingers seeking out Jin's flesh. One hand's fingers buried themselves in Jin's hair, knocking his headband away and loosening the top knot so that Jin's beautiful ink-black hair fell down and framed his face. The other hand ran from behind Jin's neck, down his back and to one muscular butt cheek, squeezing appreciatively, groping to determine what would and would not be allowed. Jin swallowed a moan of his own at the touch, his fingers scrabbling at Hato's obi, shoving it away and tugging his shirt open.

"I can't explain it," Jin managed between gasps for air as he pressed soft kisses to Hato's collarbone, sliding Hato's shirt out of his way.

"Then don't try, my lord," Hato murmured into his ear before kissing it, nibbling at Jin's earlobe softly.

 _"Jin,"_ the samurai insisted, a hand sliding down over the front of his hakama.

"Jin," Hato whimpered obediently as Jin squeezed strategically through the material of his pants. There was a brief moment where they both vied for power, Hato pushing Jin back against one of the trees that shaded their sparring area, tugging at his cloak, nipping his lower lip. Jin groaned and then halted Hato's hands.

"Not here," he murmured, and Hato nodded. He grabbed his new swords from the ground and nearly scurried back toward the village. Jin followed more slowly, adjusting his robes to hide his growing interest. Watching Hato carry the swords, Jin felt his mind rushing over all the possibilities. Laying Hato down on his goza mat, pressing his knee up between his legs and letting him grind on his thigh...Jin imagined, for a moment, taking full control over Hato, sitting with his thighs on either side of Hato's handsome face, jutting himself inexorably into Hato's mouth and...he stumbled as he stepped into the house behind Hato, feeling shame and guilt suffuse him. The other man's hands were back on Jin again, pulling at his clothing, willing to serve him whatever way he wanted. He could command _anything_ and Hato would do it.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? There was a faulty power dynamic here. Of course, Hato would say anything, do anything that was required of him. He was bound to serve by both fate and caste. His hands willingly sliding Jin's hakama down were guided not by true desire, Jin convinced himself, but by the desire to please, to serve so that he could better himself. And while Jin could not begrudge him that, the thought of taking advantage of this man he had profound affection for turned his stomach.

"Stop," Jin whispered, grinding his teeth against the ache in his loins. "Hato, we have to stop."

"Jin, please," Hato panted, his hands still moving over Jin's body, pushing him up against the wall. It was almost enough. It almost convinced Jin, despite his concern, that this was real, that it was not just duty. He rasped out a frustrated breath and pulled back, seizing Hato's wrist in his hand. He did not meet Hato's eyes, could not meet them, for if he did his resolve would crumble and he would fall into the other man's arms, allowing whatever happened to happen. Their foreheads bumped together in the darkness of the house and Jin blew out another hard breath, steeling himself for this next blow.

"It would be inappropriate, Hato," he rasped out.

"Jin," Hato nearly whined, one hand on Jin's side, the other behind his neck. Jin clenched his jaw, hearing his teeth creak with the force of it. He wanted nothing more than to pick Hato up, to let the man wrap his legs around his waist, to thrust into him and show him, with every slow, deliberate movement of his body, that he wanted to worship him, not own him.

But a samurai does not let his emotions dictate his actions.

Jin extricated himself from Hato.

Hato swallowed hard, feeling deep hurt at the rejection, and now shame suffused him. He should not have been so presumptuous, should not have kissed the man who was offering him a change in his caste. He had ruined everything. He bowed low, offering the swords back after grabbing them from the place he had leaned them.

"I am sorry, my lord," he told Jin, keeping his tone deliberately neutral.

"Hato," Jin murmured, reaching out a hand. Hato flinched and the effect was immediate - Jin dropped his hand and nodded slightly, as though something had just been confirmed. "The swords are yours," Jin told him in a firm tone. "Nothing will change that. And..." Jin bit back the words he wanted to say, that his heart was Hato's as well, that after all of this was over, after the Mongols were gone, they could both move back to Omi village, that Hato could stay in his home, that Hato could be his equal and they could get to know one another more intimately. Jin wanted to promise Hato that they could be so much more than just a fleeting love affair... Instead, he intoned, "Be sure to practice your swordsmanship. I could use your help freeing Lord Shimura from Castle Kaneda. I'm planning to attack in a fortnight, once I wrap up some business for Lady Masako. Ryuzo may come to you for assistance with his straw hat ronins' armor. Please help them however you can."

"Of course, my lord." It was with a great deal of pain that Jin did not remind Hato to call him by his given name.

Jin stepped toward the door, his shoulders hunched with a kind of defeat he had never felt before.

"You can stay the night, my lord," Hato told him. Jin paused at the doorway, smiling sadly.

"No, I can't."

Hato could not have described the emotions he was feeling, but for the first time since he was a boy, he wanted to cry. Instead, he argued.

"My lord, it is dark. Please allow me to be a good host. Please. Rest." Jin's brows raised. He could not slight the kindness of two hosts in one day, especially not this one. And he was tired, _bone_ tired after all the internal arguing he had been doing with himself.

"Alright, Hato," he answered. "But I need to sleep as soon as possible so that I can leave early tomorrow morning." Hato took the hint. Jin did not want to drink or chat or otherwise interact with him. He just wanted to rest. Hato prepared a goza mat for him well away from his own and retired as well, washing in a bucket of warm water in the corner.

In the darkness of the room, Jin could not see Hato very well, but the wavering glow of the still-lit lantern allowed him to observe Hato's lean form as he performed his ablutions. He was thin but muscular and clearly kept himself in fine form.

Hato would make an excellent samurai, Jin concluded, and then he rolled over and forced himself to sleep.

When Hato awoke, it was to the sound of a cuckoo singing somewhere outside. The sun had already begun to rise. He came upright, his heart pounding, hoping that Jin was still here. He was already gone. In his haste to leave, it appeared that some of his poetry had fallen from his satchel, along with one of his brushes and a small ivory comb. Hato gathered the misplaced items, intending to return them in a fortnight when he saw Jin next. Not ordinarily a nosy person, Hato did not intend to read any of the poetry, but the kanji for his name caught his eye. He pulled the paper in question out of the sheath of dropped poetry and felt his cheeks glow red when he saw the scribbled out poem:

_Hato I think we_

_Should perhaps curl together_

_Within night's embrace._

Jin wanted him. Really wanted him, so why had he held himself back? Why did he keep himself from lying down with Hato when they both so clearly wanted it? Why did he stop the clumsy attempt Hato had made at trying to show how he felt?

Hato decided immediately that he had to be at Castle Kaneda, not only to help Jin rescue his uncle, but because he had to know why Jin had rejected him.


	3. Act 1: A Warrior's Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hato encounters treachery and is forced to choose between honor and safety. Meanwhile, Jin takes Castle Kaneda and rescues his uncle. Hato's brothers encounter the Khan and must make a difficult decision. When Hato finally makes his way to Castle Kaneda, he is surprised at who is there to greet him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feel free to comment or come by tumblr to say hello!
> 
> For anyone who would like to know Hato's face claim, it is a young (mid-twenties) Hiroyuki Sanada. 
> 
> [If you'd like to see exactly what Hato looks like in my mind, click here to see my fanart of him and Jin](https://finefeatheredgamer.tumblr.com/post/627909940294582272/no-one-but-you-and-i-can-know-that-you-are-and)
> 
> \--------------------------------------

"So, you're the one, eh?" said Ryuzo softly. “The one Jin has taken such a liking to.” Hato had never bothered to learn the ronin's family name, but what he did know was that he did not like the man any more now than he had as a child. Ryuzo seemed hotheaded and childish, so far as Hato was concerned, ordering his men about and demanding that Hato fix their armor. It was not that Hato did not want to do it. Jin had asked him to, so of course, he would reinforce the ronin's armor and repair their clothing, but the haughty, self-righteous way Ryuzo looked down his nose at him infuriated him.

"Yes, it's me, same as always. Still serving Lord Sakai," he added, the unspoken part clear in his tone: _I serve Lord Sakai. I do not serve you._

"Hmm," growled Ryuzo. "We need the armor quickly. Two days from now, if possible."

"That won't be a problem," Hato told him, meaning it. He had been sent supplies delivered by an odd little man named Kenji who talked a mile a minute about absolutely nothing. Hato found, despite this, that he liked him, and he was sad to see him go, though the sting was somewhat lessened by the bottle of sake Kenji had given him "courtesy of Lord Sakai," he had mentioned. Hato's cheeks had grown warm at that, and he had nodded and gratefully taken the bottle, telling Kenji to thank Lord Sakai for his generosity while silently vowing that he would share the bottle with him after they retook Castle Kaneda.

Now was no time for drinking, however. He had to get to work. Around his village, the straw hat ronin lurked, like vultures in a tree, a constant, gruff presence that began to wear on Hato's nerves. He wanted this task over and done with, and he wanted to be at Jin's side, fighting with him, proving his worth. That must have been why Jin had rejected him. He had not thought Hato good enough, especially after Hato had embarrassed himself by coming onto him after a fresh defeat. Hato would prove he was worthy of Jin's affection. His plan was simple, foolproof, he thought with satisfaction. He would finish this armor in two days, even if it meant he worked his calloused fingers to the bone, and then he would ride hard for the camp outside of Castle Kaneda. He would fight alongside Jin, destroy the Mongols, free Lord Shimura, be granted rank as a samurai, and then take Jin aside, maybe in one of the dark rooms of the castle. Hato would show that he was worthy, he would show Jin that his affection was not just a passing fancy from childhood, but something deeper, something he wanted to explore. And if that exploration led to their hakama falling to the ground alongside their kimono before they tangled together on a goza mat, all the better.

Hato worked late into the night. He could not sleep well anyway, not with his anticipation of the battle, not with the straw hats chattering away late into the night.

"You're not seriously going to work for him again, Ryuzo? Does he really think we would help him free that uncle of his when we're nearly starving? Bastard!" spat one of the straw hats in a low voice just outside the wall of Hato's home. Hato paused in his work, curious at the turn their quiet conversation had taken.

"I had to make him think we would help. Sakai trusts me. We were friends." Ryuzo scoffed. "But he is no different than any of the others. He comes to me for help as though I owe him something." There was a loud snort.

"Samurai think the people beneath them owe them for every grain of rice that passes their lips."

"Hmm," answered Ryuzo. "We'll get our armor from this fool, then we'll deal with Sakai. The Khan put a bounty on his head. He has offered us a better position than Sakai or Shimura can. Adequate food. A safe place for winter. Everything the jito has never bothered to ensure his people have," he finished bitterly, his tone almost regretful.

Hato had frozen with fear and rage. Ryuzo and his straw hats had no intention of helping with the battle to free Lord Shimura. Worse yet, they were helping the Khan, planning to give Jin over to him. He was breathing heavily, his hands shaking with anger as he processed this betrayal. He was assisting a band of traitors.

"And what if Sakai escapes? Won't he hunt you down?" There was a long silence. "Ryuzo?"

"Shh. Do you hear that?"

"What? I don't hear anything." There was a rustle of clothing and footsteps, the sound of a blade being drawn.

"Exactly." Swallowing, Hato rushed to where his swords were leaned against the wall, attaching the swords to his belt just below his obi. “Akabane! Come out here.”

Hato had a choice to make. He could flee like a coward, jump out a window or escape beneath his house and run into the woods. He would live, but he would have tarnished his reputation, proven that he was not worthy to be samurai. Or he could step outside, face the challenge that Ryuzo would undoubtedly present him, and die with honor.

Hato swallowed.

If only he had not been so foolish as to let the straw hats know he had been listening. Closing his eyes, Hato thought back on every moment of training, the hours he had spent studying Sun Tsu, the afternoons he had spent mimicking the moves he had seen Jin Sakai perform with his sword with a bamboo branch. His brothers had practiced with him, sparred with him as they grew older, wiser, and more refined. He was ready for this. As ready as he would ever be.

If nothing else, Hato thought, Jin might learn that he had died worthy of his affection. He would die a man of honor.

“Akabane! Get out here!”

Should he shout a greeting? Hato wondered. Should he feign ignorance? No. He steeled himself, taking a deep, steadying breath.

Sliding the shoji door open, Hato stepped down onto the cool ground, the wind flapping gently at his linen kimono. His feet in his tabi socks and wooden sandals were firmly planted, and his hand was steady on the grip of his katana. Ryuzo smirked, giving a small laugh and nodding as though this confirmed what he had already known. Hato knew about their treachery, and he would die fighting against him. Around Ryuzo, the other straw hat ronin gathered, a half-moon barrier made of warriors pinning Hato in.

Ryuzo looked at the katana in Hato's grip, then slid his gaze to the tanto hanging just above it at Hato's waist and smirked.

"I have two swords too, little dove," he said softly. "Doesn't make me a samurai."

"Your lack of honor keeps you from being a samurai," Hato informed him, his voice shaking, but he stood tall. He would meet whatever fate the universe dealt him, but falling to Ryuzo's blade seemed a particularly cruel joke.

So then, he told himself, don't. Don't fall to this bastard's blade.

"You think you can best me?" Ryuzo asked him, raising a brow, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I don't know," Hato told him honestly, "but I will try."

"Try then. And die." With that, Ryuzo slid his blade free. Hato curled his lip, holding his blade up defensively. Ryuzo lunged, struck. Hato parried, stepping back and tripping over a bundle of bamboo just outside his workshop door. For once in his life could he have kept his home clean? He lamented internally, clumsily stepping over the strips of bamboo. Ryuzo slid his katana back into its sheath in a liquid motion full of confidence and bravado. It was clear he thought he had already won. "Your stance isn't half-bad. But half-bad isn't good enough."

Ryuzo lunged again, slinging his blade from its saya and again Hato parried, whirling around and out of his way before slamming the butt of his katana's pommel into Ryuzo's shoulder, knocking him forwards and then swatting wildly, the end of his sword slicing a deep gash in Ryuzo's cheek.

Ryuzo growled and spun, following Hato's movements. Hato cried out in pain as the end of his opponent's sword sliced down his side through the thin linen clothing he was wearing. If only he were wearing his armor! He had made another set, not as fine as what he had given Jin, but it would have kept his insides where they belonged, he thought with regret. At least now Ryuzo's back was to the house. Unfortunately, this meant that Hato's back was to the half-circle of ronin who were patiently waiting for this all to be over. No matter what the outcome, Hato was not walking away from this alive, he was certain.

"You think you'll get away with this?" Hato demanded. One of the ronin behind him slid his foot into the area where Hato and Ryuzo were dueling, causing Hato to stumble and fall. Desperate to avoid Ryuzo's strike, he leapt upright and out of range of the quick swat of Ryuzo's blade. “Bastard,” Hato hissed at both Ryuzo and the ronin, who gave a low chuckle at his misfortune.

“It doesn't matter if I get away with it. All that matters is that my men survive. All your worship of the samurai and you still don't understand - they don't care about you. Jin doesn't care about you,” Ryuzo rumbled, a pained expression flitting across his features as he wiped angrily at the streak of blood pouring from the cut on his cheek. Hato cringed at the statement. The distraction was enough.

Ryuzo flew across the space between them, the end of his katana nearly stabbing into Hato's shoulder. He managed to duck to the side and the blade took a chunk of linen instead of flesh.

“You're no different than me, Akabane. You want what he can give you – power. Glory.”

“No,” Hato growled, gracefully parrying a blow and holding Ryuzo's blade back with all his might, their grimacing faces mere inches from one another, their blades screeching and throwing sparks as they each fought for dominance.

Finally, Ryuzo whirled back, nearly causing Hato to fall forward, but he caught himself and shifted his weight backward and to the side, ignoring the gnawing ache in his arms from the blows the experienced ronin had landed. “I am not like you, Ryuzo,” he said by way of distraction, knowing that was what Ryuzo intended. "I live to serve Lord Sakai. You live to serve yourself. That makes all the difference." Ryuzo bared his teeth at that.

The verbal blow had landed close to the mark and when Ryuzo swung at Hato again, this time he made contact. Hato groaned with pain as the blade sliced deep into his left arm. Whimpering from the agony, he held up his blade feebly. Ryuzo stepped forward and Hato knew that he was dead. This was how he died. "You think you deserve a fair fight. You think you deserve a warrior's death," Ryuzo hissed, bending down as Hato went to his knees, his mind bleary from loss of blood. He grabbed Hato's topknot, holding the blade of his sword to Hato's neck. Warm blood dripped from where the razor-sharp blade pressed into his skin."You don't." With that, he removed his katana blade from Hato's neck, shoving him forward where he caught himself on his hands. Hato was able to look back in horror just as Ryuzo slammed the pommel of his katana into his temple, and darkness overtook him.

Ryuzo had betrayed him.

It was bad enough when Jin thought that he simply had not bothered to show up with his straw hat ronin, but it was worse when he had said those quiet words of betrayal before their duel:

“The Khan put a bounty on the Ghost.”

Even now, after victory, his uncle safe, the memory of the words, of the ache in his bones from parrying every desperate blow from Ryuzo's sword made Jin's stomach ache. When neither Ryuzo nor Hato had shown up to the battle, he had known something was wrong. He had not imagined that Ryuzo would have stooped so low. He never would have thought that Ryuzo could do something like that to him. His heart beat in terror for Hato, wondering what had happened to him. Was he dead? Had he, oh gods, had he agreed with Ryuzo? He stared out over the bay from the lighthouse, his fingers clenched upon the wooden railing.

"Jin? Did you hear me?"

Lord Shimura's voice shook him from his reverie.

"Sorry, Uncle. I am worried for one of my men. Hato Akabane." Lord Shimura's brows rose.

"Akabane? His brothers are good men." Jin turned to his uncle, relief flooding him.

"Then, they're still alive?" His uncle's face darkened and his jaw set.

"I don't know, Jin. They were stationed at my castle. They may well still live. But..."

"With the Khan marching north to take your castle, it's more likely that they've been killed," Jin finished for him dully. Had the entire Akabane clan been wiped out by this invasion? Jin wondered, his heart aching.

"Yes," Lord Shimura agreed, putting a hand gently on his shoulder. "This Hato, I take it he is a friend of yours?"

"Yes," Jin breathed, "a good friend, and a strong ally. He wanted to become samurai, but his father left him with their armor crafting business."

"Hmm. The country has more need of samurai than armorers now," Lord Shimura said softly, and Jin's hopes for Hato rose. "Even if your friend Yuna does recruit the warriors of Yarikawa, I could use more good men on my side. If he lives, I will take him on as samurai. But he must take the vows, must follow the bushido way. One day, you too should take on men as a samurai, Jin," he pointed out. Jin flinched at that, at the horrible power dynamic that would be even more cemented if Hato was beneath his rule.

"After this is all over, Uncle," Jin said, excusing himself the social faux pas that his uncle could not possibly be aware of.

"Jin. First, you should return home. Reclaim your father's armor." Jin swallowed, knowing his uncle was right, knowing he had more responsibilities than just Hato. Clenching his jaw, Jin steadied himself. There were things that needed doing, allies to speak with, plans to make. He would have to check on Hato later. Much though his heart wanted to abandon responsibility and ride for Hato's village, he knew that he could not indulge selfishness. Besides, he thought, he would need to return to his home, don his father's armor. And he would need Hato, if he lived, to repair it.

TWO DAYS LATER, FAR TO THE NORTH

“You have an impressive home. Won't you welcome me inside? Your people are tired...hungry...cold. Open the gate and save them,” came the booming voice of Khotun Khan.

Hakuchō Akabane looked to his brother Washi. They were standing at the overlook tower at the castle gates, both in full samurai armor, both at a loss as to what to do.

“What now?” Hakuchō asked, looking out at the hoard of Mongols, at the prisoners tied over wooden pyres, innocent peasants, the people they were supposed to protect. The same kind of people they had been before Lord Shimura accepted them as samurai.

“We cannot let them in,” Washi said miserably. The Khan walked to a familiar figure below. Washi spat. “I never liked that Ryuzo.”

“You've never met a man you liked,” Hakuchō said in a dry tone, but any humor that may have been in his voice fell flat under the circumstances. Despite the desperate screams of the peasant, Ryuzo dropped the torch the Khan handed him at the base of the pyre. In an instant, the man was shrieking, engulfed in flames.

“Butcher,” Washi cursed, his face going more pale than before. In the light of the lanterns, his red-black hair also looked consumed with flame. In the face of such an unrelenting force, however, his usual bravado was absent. Could he live with himself if he allowed the Mongols through the gates? Could he live with himself if he allowed innocent people to be burned alive? “Hakuchō,” he said, his voice trembling, his eyes glistening with terror and shame. Far below, the traitor Ryuzo was pacing toward the next prisoner. His agonized voice called from below.

“Open...open the...open the gate! Open the gate!” The treacherous ronin screamed with the desperation of a man who would rather have died than repeat what he had just done, his features overcome with guilt.

“Brother,” Hakuchō said softly, his eyes fixed on the terrified face of the captured peasant who was weeping in terror. “Open the gate.”

“Hakuchō,” Washi murmured again, his body trembling.

“Open it!” Hakuchō hissed. Washi gave the sign to his men and the gates began a slow motion inwards.

“We have brought shame on our family,” Washi intoned as he watched a legion of Mongol torches begin a march toward the gates. Hakuchō slid his sword from its sheath and grabbed his brother's upper arm, meeting his eyes steadily.

“Not yet. Not if we fight them, as samurai.” Washi nodded slowly.

“We will fight them together, then.” As one, the two stormed down the tower to meet the overwhelming force that marched inside, facing death with the courage of a hundred men.

ONE DAY LATER, CASTLE KANEDA

There was a pounding at the castle gates that startled the man on duty. Shaking himself, he peered below to see a stooped man with reddish hair hunched in front of a scabby farm horse.

“Who is that?” he called down suspiciously.

“Hato. Hato Akabane,” the man called. “Is Lord Sakai here?”

“He's gone to Omi Village. What business do you have with him?”

Hato gave a weary laugh. Of course, he would have ridden this far to still have missed both the battle and Jin. Crestfallen, he held up a hand in a flippant gesture of dismissal and exhaustion.

“I'll ride on,” he muttered. His face felt flushed and his head still pounded with the blow he had received nearly a week before. His arm throbbed with every beat of his heart and he was half-delirious with hunger, but he had to find Jin. He had to find Lord Sakai, had to tell him that he had tried...he had tried to stop Ryuzo...he had tried. He had failed.

With one last feeble wave of his hand at the guard, Hato turned to leave, but his knees went out from under him, spooking the borrowed horse. Hato felt as though he was floating outside of his own body, though the pain from all of his injuries was constant. Absently, he realized that his cheek was in the dirt, as was the rest of him. He had collapsed at the castle gates. So close, but so far, he thought, his hands scrabbling at the sand weakly. In his stupor, Hato heard voices talking. His vision went dark and he allowed his eyes to slip closed. He could rest, just for a moment.

“Bring him inside immediately!” Gentle hands lifted Hato from the ground. He felt his head lolling back against someone's chest, but found he did not have the energy to care. Ordinarily, he would have been beside himself with embarrassment, mortified at being weak, at being carried by...

“Lord Shimura!” he slurred in surprise as he forced his eyes open.

“Hold on, my boy. You'll be alright. Jin has told me all about you.” With that last statement, Hato felt himself give a small, delirious chuckle as consciousness began to fade.

Not _all_ about me, he thought, remembering the flower petal feeling of Jin's lips against his own, and then it was dark again.


	4. Act 2: An Urgent Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jin spends time with his childhood nanny Yuriko and she offers him some words of wisdom. Hato fights off the fever from his wounds. Lord Shimura receives a terrible message and must relay awful news to Jin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of gore mentioned in this chapter, be advised. Nothing too graphic, but be aware that it is present.  
> There is also a canon character death this chapter.  
> ____________________

It was good to be home, Jin thought as he rode alongside Yuriko toward her family cemetery. Despite the interruptions of the straw hat ronin that had ambushed him earlier, his spirit felt more at ease than it had since before the battle for Castle Kaneda. Thanks to Yuriko, he now had poison darts at his disposal, and unlike his uncle, she did not disparage him for his methods. She had simply asked him to remain the good person she was certain he was. It would be an easy promise to keep.

"Yuriko," Jin said as they rode together toward the top of the great hill that overlooked their prefecture. "May I ask you something?"

"Anything, little Jin," she returned, and he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she was herself again, not lost in memories as she had been a few times since he returned home. Here and there she had let slip little secrets that Jin had known without knowing. He needed her guidance, so he needed to talk about it, had to know the right thing to do. He fumbled for words and then finally blurted,

"I know you loved my father." There was a long pause.

"Kazumasa was a good man. I did love him, and he had feelings for me too. But he never did anything that would have hurt your mother," Yuriko assured him. Jin swallowed.

"Do you...would _you_ have...if my father had returned your love before my mother died...?"

"No," she said fiercely, reigning in her horse so that she could meet his eye. Her own were stern. "Your father loved your mother as the ocean loves the shore. It returns and returns and returns. What he felt for me...it was different. We were a comfort to one another when your mother died. I helped him to raise you. But love transcends the bonds this world puts upon it. It is powerful." Yuriko slowed her horse nearly to a stop. "Why are you asking me this?" Jin looked away, feeling his face burning.

"There's a..." He paused for a very long moment. Though the kind of feelings he had toward Hato were not forbidden, such a relationship was discouraged, especially for a lord. But Yuriko would understand, wouldn't she? "There's a...man," he forced out. Yuriko's head turned, but when Jin glanced at her there was no judgment in her kind face.

"Oh Jin, I am glad you have found someone who cares for you. He does, doesn't he?" Jin tilted his head. He had not thought of it from Hato's side, had only considered it from his - how Hato's face lingered in his mind, how the memory of his touch still warmed him. Jin knew that he adored Hato, but he thought that Hato had only been acting from a desire to be a good servant. Was he wrong? And, more to the point, had he given Hato fair opportunity to speak for himself? In an instant all his presuppositions became the stuff of foolishness.

"I...I don't know," Jin stammered honestly, feeling like an idiot. It did not matter now. According to the messenger who had been sent by his uncle, Hato was at Castle Kaneda, recovering from his wounds, and Jin was here, realizing now that his dismissal of Hato's affection had been incredibly unfair.

In a moment the words came pouring out of Jin to the one person he had ever confided in. He told Yuriko about his infatuation with Hato, about the poetry, the kiss, and then the cowardice of his flight away from the Hato and the temptation he presented. Yuriko chuckled softly when he was done and Jin, feeling suddenly as though he was naked before her, having bared his soul, was mildly annoyed, one brow arched in irritation.

"My little Jin," she began, shaking her head. "I knew from the moment I saw you showing off for him in the garden long ago that you might become more than friends. I remember little fire-haired Hato. He's a _good boy_. If you love him...look at me, sweet Jin." She waited for him to comply. Sheepishly he obeyed and gestured for her to continue. "If you love him, go to him. Tell him."

"The Mongols..."

"There will always be something, Jin. Mongols. Bandits. Don't you think, if I could do it all over again, that I would have held Kazumasa before his last battle? I wish I could tell him all the things I left unsaid." Her eyes were glittering with unwept tears and Jin, taken aback, felt his heart aching suddenly with the burden of all the things he wanted to tell Hato. "We're here,” she said softly, and Jin saw that they were. They climbed down from their horses and Yuriko placed flowers on her ancestors graves as they had planned. After a moment, she went to her knees.

“Are you alright?” Jin asked her, squatting down next to her, his armor clattering awkwardly. He felt like a foolish little boy in his father's armor, especially here, next to his nanny. Yuriko had stuck by him despite how he had changed, despite his use of poisons and bombs and tricks, helping him develop more tools to defeat the Mongols. She understood that he had to do whatever it took to save his people. Jin worried for her. She had been coughing lately, but had insisted on this trip before they visited a healer. Yuriko looked up at him, a slightly confused look on her kindly face. Jin blinked, realizing that Yuriko was lost to memory.

“Oh Kazumasa, that night you brought little Jin to me. When he was so sick after all that time in the forest. We had already lost Lady Sakai." Yuriko's voice was steeped with misery and Jin listened, curious what she was talking about. "Kazumasa? Are you listening?”

“I'm listening,” he murmured.

“I made him drink that remedy my mother taught me. We sat by his side the whole night. You held my hand. Do you remember?” Jin's eyebrows pulled up in the middle, his throat felt thick with emotion. Of course he remembered.

“Yes,” he forced out, “I remember.”

“That night I was so scared. So sad for little Jin. But I was so happy. Does that make me a bad person?” Yuriko looked at him for his opinion and Jin felt the weight of the world settle temporarily on his shoulders.

“No.” He meant it. She sighed deeply and Jin waited for her to continue.

“When he recovered, when you taught me how to ride...the day we rode to the onsen. The sunset was red and full. That was...” Her voice trailed off and Jin's breath felt short. So many emotions roiled within him, and he felt himself fighting them all back. Swallowing hard he asked,

“That was what?”

“The best day of my life,” she answered finally. She looked as exhausted as Jin felt. “It's dark, Kazumasa. Tell me what you see.” Jin looked out across the prefecture, forcing himself to take a breath, to clear his mind of everything but Yuriko's presence next to him and all he saw before him.

“I can see all the way to Yarikawa.”

“I remember the war. A tragedy for all the clans.”

“Good people remain there,” Jin answered, knowing he still needed to recruit them to his uncle's cause. He stared out over the vast landscape, his heart tugging him toward one spot in particular. “Castle Kaneda,” he breathed, thinking of Hato, aching for him.

“I wish you weren't there so often,” Yariko said to a man who was not there. Jin played along, frowning slightly.

“Why do you say that?”

“You have many responsibilities. I am grateful for the time we share but I always want more.” Jin huffed out a hard breath. He knew the feeling, but forced himself to continue.

“There's the temple in Kushi,” he narrated. “The pagoda.”

“Every new year I pray there for you...and little Jin...and my family.”

“Jin is lucky you take such good care of him,” he forced out, his voice trembling. “Now tell me what you see.” There was silence. “Yuriko?” Jin turned and his resolve failed, the tears he had been holding back now welling in his eyes as he touched Yuriko's shoulder. She had left this world at peace, overlooking the home she loved, he thought. He worked late into the night, burying her with the rest of her family. It did not feel right, leaving her without some memento of his father. Pulling the mask from his armor, he sat it on her grave. Hato could make him another, he thought, re-centering himself and forcing his grief away. “Rest, Yuriko. 'The strength we need is all around us. The mighty fall at last to be no more than dust before the wind,'” he intoned, and then he walked back to the estate, alone again.

Lord Shimura sat quietly, meditating and looking over the latest maps from his scouts. The Mongols had spread like a plague over their land, burning and destroying everything they touched. His fingers brushed over the reed paper and he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. From behind him and down the hall in one of the side rooms he could hear Hato Akabane moaning in his sleep. The poor boy had taken quite a beating. The best anyone could tell, he had fought the traitor Ryuzo, nearly losing his life in the process. He was battered and beaten, but had dutifully made his way to the castle, intent upon warning Jin, but too late. The quiet moans rose in volume, and then became words. Lord Shimura called for healers to attend to Hato, putting away his papers and peaking in on what would be his newest samurai.

“My lord,” Hato whimpered in his fevered sleep, his eyelids fluttering, his forehead shining with a sheen of oily sweat. “I tried to stop him. I tried.” Lord Shimura asked one of the healers how Hato's wounds were doing.

"They are healing, my lord. He has awoken several times, but he is still feverish."

"Make sure his bandages stay clean. I need him healthy."

"Yes, my lord," said the healer dutifully, rearranging Hato's blankets and reaching to unwrap the old bandage on his arm and side so the wounds could be cleaned and covered anew. Hato stirred, beginning to awaken.

"My lord," called a servant from the hall.

"What is it?" Lord Shimura answered, stepping out of Hato's room but leaving the door ajar. The servant's face was white and he held a large bundle in his arms.

"The Mongols, they sent one of their soldiers here with a message from the Khan." The servant was trembling. Lord Shimura frowned, worry settling in his belly.

"What was the message?" The servant swallowed hard and uncovered the bundle he had in his hands. Lord Shimura kept his face carefully neutral, but his stomach roiled with disgust. In the bundle was a head covered in unmistakable red-black hair.

Washi Akabane's brown eyes stared blankly at Lord Shimura in death. On his white headband in poorly-written kanji were the words _"Those who refuse to surrender will surrender their heads."_ Fury shot through Lord Shimura, but he forced himself to calm.

From inside the room, there was a sharp gasp of air. Hato Akabane had sat up on his goza mat and was staring in shock at his brother's head. Quickly Lord Shimura covered it with the linen cloth it had been wrapped in and blocked the grisly sight from Hato with his body.

"Is that...?" Hato did not finish his question, instead leaning to the side and retching violently. Lord Shimura's hands were trembling with rage. The Akabane brothers had been some of his best samurai, which was why he had left them to defend his castle when he left for the battle at Komoda Beach.

"Get that out of his sight," Lord Shimura hissed. "And tell the men to hunt down that messenger."

"My lord?"

Lord Shimura forced himself to take a deep breath through his nostrils.

"Whoever catches up to him is to challenge him to a fair fight. We will destroy our enemies, but we will do so with honor."

"Yes, my lord." With that, the servant departed. Lord Shimura turned back to Hato, who was wiping his mouth with a rag one of the healers had offered him. It was clear that he was disturbed by what he had awoken to.

"I am sorry, my boy," Lord Shimura said quietly.

"My lord..." Hato began, but his voice broke.

"Sleep," Lord Shimura chided him. He pulled one of the healers aside. "Give him some syrup of the poppy. Enough to make him sleep until tomorrow morning."

"Yes, my lord."

Jin rode like a madman, forcing his grief for Yuriko away. He prayed that she had found peace in death. He prayed that he could find the same peace with Hato. When he encountered a wandering patrol of Mongols, he made quick work of them, slaughtering their ranks. Nothing, _nothing_ would stop him from reaching Hato. There was so much he had to say and now, with a fresh reminder of the impermanent quality of life fresh on his mind, he felt he had to say it as soon as possible.

Shoving the soldiers and peasants who greeted him aside gently, Jin made his way to the castle proper, only to be intercepted by his uncle in the main keep. As though he sensed Jin's nervous energy, Lord Shimura blocked the way to the upper levels of the castle.

“Jin, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see Hato, Uncle.” His uncle's lips pursed tightly and Jin watched as the wrinkles between his brows deepened.

“Jin,” he said in a fierce voice that made Jin's entire body stiffen. “You have other duties.”

“Yes, Uncle, but I am responsible for his wounds. I am the one who asked him to work for Ryuzo.” Lord Shimura straightened.

“I sent you word that my healers were caring for him. So is that the only reason you feel compelled to return here, nephew?” he asked in a dangerous tone. Jin frowned.

“Yes, Uncle,” he answered emphatically. Lord Shimura stared at Jin as he had when he was a boy. It was a serious, searching gaze that seemed to burn into Jin's soul, but he was resolute. If even a modicum of his weakness for Hato became visible...well, Jin did not want to consider what response that might invoke.

“Jin...he is in no state to have a visitor," Lord Shimura said finally. Jin felt the blood drain from his cheeks, but he recovered quickly.

“Is he alright?” Lord Shimura rubbed his chin, an odd, out-of-character gesture. He was clearly ill-at-ease. At last he looked up at Jin, his face displaying grief and anger that he quickly controlled, rearranging his expression into a neutral mask.

"No."


	5. Act 2: Rage and Tenderness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enraged at his brother's fate, Hato seeks revenge against the Khan. Jin stays at his side and tends to him as he recovers from his injuries. Feelings are admitted and at last they curl together in the darkness, sharing a last, tender evening together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING!  
> This chapter contains an EXPLICIT sex scene. It is not particularly important to the plot, so if you would like to skip it, stop reading at the ***** and begin reading again at the #####.

Rage.

The Akabane trait. Hato was full to the brim with it, seething hatred forcing him to action as he remembered the grisly sight of the pale, macabre form of his brother's head in a servant's trembling arms. There was no sensibility in Hato's mind as he leapt from the goza mat, shoving aside servants and healers. Hato felt groggy, heavy, as though his head had been filled with sand. The milk of the poppy was enticing him to sleep, but he forced himself upright with the fury of a dragon in his blood. The healers were insistent, grabbing at him as he dressed himself, tugging on his kimono and hakama, pulling his obi around his waist and tying it tight.

“You need to rest. Lord Shimura has charged us with your care. Here, drink some more of this,” one of the healers argued. The acrid, too-sweet smell of poppy syrup reached Hato's nostrils and he retched again.

“Get that out of my face,” he hissed, batting away the cup, splattering the tatami mats on the floor with the viscous fluid. Not waiting for argument, Hato snatched his swords and shoved them into his obi. In his fury, Hato was a man transformed. Usually gentle and easy-going, his anger, when aroused, turned him into a demon. His eyes were wide and bloodshot and his hair stuck out in all directions, looking like flames sprouting from his scalp in the yellow-orange light of the castle lanterns. As he stalked down the hall, Hato heard voices.

“Jin...he is in no state to have a visitor,” Lord Shimura was saying.

“Is he alright?” Jin. Jin was here. Hato blinked, finding himself just outside the room where they were speaking.

“No.” At this quick assessment of his health and sanity, Hato wanted to let loose an insane cackle, but instead he continued his flight toward the base level of the keep.

In an instant, he was at the doors, almost as though pure force of will had transported him there. But Hato's legs seemed as though they were sinking into mud. Every step felt like something was pulling him back, pulling him down into darkness.

"Akabane!" came the firm voice of Lord Shimura "Where are you going? Akabane!" Hato ignored him, single-minded in his goal. In his maddened state, the thought that Lord Shimura might punish him for not obeying did not cross his mind. "Akabane! Akabane, stop! You need to rest." But he did not. He did not feel the red-edged slice down his arm or the jagged wound across his side. He was alive. He was vengeance. He was wrath incarnate. “Hold him down!” cried Lord Shimura, and Hato thought he heard the rattling of armor as soldiers moved to obey, felt heavy hands grasping at him.

Jin called out to him.

"Hato! Hato, it's alright, calm down." Ignoring him, Hato exploded into the courtyard, flames licking around his ears. He reached up a hand and swiped away a strand of fire, tucking it back into his top knot. His eyes glowed with wrath.

“Get off me,” he roared as a hazy figure tried to pull him back. He shook loose, stumbling a bit, but regained his footing and darted to the gate, shoving it open and avoiding the grasping hands of the guards that followed him, clutching at his cloak and kimono. He was like a man possessed, single-minded in his goal.

Hato would ride all the way to Castle Shimura and take on the Khan himself. He commandeered someone's horse, spurring it to action without planning or thought. The animal snorted, but accepted him as a rider. Blasting down the northward trail, Hato set his teeth together, his jaw ticking as he rode. From somewhere outside of the roaring fury in his mind, he heard a voice calling him.

"Hato!" It was Jin, riding after him like an arrow, intent on catching him.

"Do not try and stop me, my lord," Hato screamed from a throat raw with pain and anger.

"I'm not," Jin assured him, "but I won't let you get yourself killed. You need to be back in bed, Hato."

"I have to kill that bastard."

"And then what? Think, Hato. The messenger did not kill your brothers. The Khan did. Are you planning on taking on his whole army yourself?"

Hato turned eyes of red fire on Jin. The flame within him roared to life and he smiled.

"Yes."

They stood before Castle Shimura and Hato drew his sword. All along its edge licked hissing flames, smoke crawling off it like lesser demons.

“Are you cowards?! Come and face me!” Whether they understood his words or not, it caught the Mongolians' attention and a tangle of men stepped out of the gates, screaming in their own tongue and brandishing their weapons. For a moment there was a stand off, and then the largest one, at least a foot taller than Hato, dashed toward him, swinging his scimitar.

All the training, all the reading, all the hours of work Hato had spent longing to be a warrior were distilled into this single moment of purposeful rage.

The Mongol's head flew free from his body, and Hato, surprised at his own success, flicked blood from the end of his katana with a movement as smooth as a bird's wing in flight. Jin's back bumped into Hato's as the Mongolians surrounded them and they fought back to back, their shoulders touching as blades whistled through the air, a sutra of death sung by shivering steel. Between the two of them, the Mongols were dead in a matter of minutes, their cooling corpses muddying the ground with crimson blood.

"Stop wasting my time!" Hato screamed. "Send out your Khan to face me!"

Lumbering steps shook the ground and even in his hate-filled rage, Hato's eyes grew wide. The Khan stepped forward, ten feet tall and four feet wide at the shoulders. He was massive. He wore white, the color of death and Hato saw his doom in the Khan's chilly gaze.

"You think you can best me?" the Khan asked him. His voice sounded like Ryuzo's. Hato faltered for a moment, feeling confused, feeling half-mad.

His wrath now dampened by his fear, Hato felt lightheaded, dizzy. His side burned and his chest ached.

"I don't know, but I will try," he said, the line rehearsed a dozen times before, it felt like.

"Try then. And die." Ryuzo leapt toward him and the clang of his blade against Hato's sent pain shivering through every nerve. All the anger that had been holding him upright abandoned him, leaving apathy in its wake. Mist roiled from the castle gates, swallowing up the landscape, leaving Hato in a blank clearing, completely alone. He looked down at his sword, but it was not in his hand. He realized suddenly that he was wearing nothing but a fundoshi.

"What?" he muttered, his knees failing him. Blood poured from his mouth and when he reached a hand up, his teeth fell into his palm. Terrified, he stumbled, fell, his side oozing blood, his arm burning as though on fire.

"He's burning up. Tie him down if you have to. He's gone mad with the fever."

"Hato, it's alright. It will be alright."

"Jin," Hato murmured, turning to look at him, but he was gone. "Don't leave me." From out of the mist came Jin's soft voice.

"I won't."

"Jin..." Hato murmured again.

Hato awoke to a feeling of softness. Soft goza mat. Soft blankets. That same awful sensation of a head that felt full of sand. He sighed, blinking in confusion as he awoke. It smelled like Jin - bamboo leaves, cedar sap and the mild scent of sulfur from an onsen pool. He was back in his private room, but this time the shoji doors were closed, the lantern dimmed.

"Jin," he murmured, writhing beneath the blankets that had been piled on him. He realized belatedly that the smell of Jin was coming from Jin himself where he was snoozing, leaning against the wall of the room in his father's armor.

Hato tried to sit upright, but felt the tugging of stitches in his side. Pausing for a moment to take in the extent of his injuries, he felt that that his forehead was drenched in sweat, his red-black hair pasted to his skull. His wounds had begun to heal. He must have been asleep some time, Hato concluded. Jin was sitting at his left side, but despite that, Hato felt the urgent need to take Jin's hand in his own. With a small grunt of pain, he lifted his injured arm and stretched it so that their fingers were in contact. At the touch, Jin startled awake, blinking rapidly and looking around the room to reorient himself. He must have been exhausted when he sat. He turned to Hato and his face lit up seeing him awake.

“You're finally awake,” Jin said simply, a small smile suffusing his handsome features. He stood and poked his head out of the room, asking a servant for food to be sent before he sat back down. Jin leaned forward and swiped a strand of hair out of Hato's face in an intimate gesture that Hato wanted desperately to lean into. "How are you feeling?"

"Very tired, my lord," Hato answered after a quick assessment. He frowned, confused.

“Good. I'm glad your fever finally broke. You've been sleeping for nearly a week. I thought we had lost you,” Jin told him, his voice warm with affection. Hato smiled slightly, one corner of his full lips lifting.

“What happened with the Khan? Ryuzo? I...” Hato frowned and squinted, trying and failing to remember the last thing that had happened to him. His eyes opened wide when he remembered his furious flight from the castle. “Oh...was your uncle very angry with me for leaving?" Jin frowned.

"Hato, you haven't left Castle Kaneda since you arrived. Lord Shimura was worried for your health. He had healers treating you night and day. They gave you poppy milk. You must have dreamed something. You were burning up with fever, screaming, trying to get out of bed." Jin gave him a grim look, the space between his brows furrowing with worry. Hato shook himself, feeling deeply out of sorts. “Hato. When you've recovered, you are to be trained as a samurai. My uncle had already agreed before you arrived at the castle, but when he saw your wounds, saw how you had taken on Ryuzo and still managed to drag yourself here, he told me he would be proud to have a man like you in his service." Jin chuckled. “And if you're trying to take on the Khan in your sleep, I imagine you're going to be quite the fiercesome warrior.”

Hato blushed at the teasing, but Jin took his hand.

“I need to get out of this bed. Get to training,” Hato mumbled, pulling his hand away.

“Hato. Please. Rest.”

“I have rested enough,” Hato insisted, forcing himself to his feet. He felt weak, and hungry. His stomach rumbled as though to announce this. Hato realized belatedly that he was wearing nothing but a fundoshi. That tracked with his last memory and he felt like a fool for thinking the events of the dream were real. He blanched, but relaxed when Jin handed him a soft kimono and hakama. "Here, let me," Jin said softly, unable to prevent his gaze from wandering over Hato's form. He stepped behind Hato, sliding one of the kimono sleeves up his arm and pulling the garment up to his shoulder. Hato heard Jin breathe in deeply.

"My lord," he said shyly, in a voice so soft it was nearly inaudible. Jin's fingers wrapped over his shoulder, pulling on the other sleeve over Hato's bandaged arm. Somehow, despite the fact that Jin was applying more clothing to him instead of removing it, this act was so intimate that he felt his breathing growing short, his face glowing as Jin tied his obi around his waist. Hato stepped into his hakama and Jin bent before him, keeping his eyes averted as though he was Hato's servant. Unable to resist, Hato's hand went to Jin's shoulder as Jin slid the soft material up his legs to his waist. "Lord Sakai," he breathed. Jin looked up at him, his features soft in the gentle light provided by a paper lantern in the corner of Hato's private room.

“Jin,” he corrected.

“Jin,” Hato intoned, pulling him to his feet.

They stared at one another for a long moment before Hato's gaze broke away, moving instead to stare at Jin's full lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss him. Despite his weakness, despite the soreness in his arm, despite the loss he had recently experienced, he wanted, no, _needed_ Jin, now more than ever.

Hato leaned in and Jin did not step away. Their lips touched and then separated with a soft noise. Hato kept his lips a hair's breadth from Jin's and they breathed one another's air.

"My lord...forgive me," he intoned in a whisper. Jin huffed a soft sigh.

"Hato." Hato tried to keep his gaze averted, but Jin tipped his chin upwards. "Back in the village I thought...I thought maybe I was taking advantage of you. I thought that you were just trying to be a loyal servant but...loyal servants don't cry out for their lord in their sleep." Jin's thumb traced the curve of Hato's lower lip. Hato reddened and sucked in a shaky breath, his chest warming at Jin's touch. "I don't want to lose you, Hato."

"Nor I you, my lord," he murmured, overcome with sudden emotion.

"Jin," Jin corrected him again with a hint of a smile on his plush lips. "You are samurai now. I am not your lord. You are Akabane, samurai of Clan Shimura."

"I'm sorry I failed you and your uncle, Jin. I'm sorry I didn't stop Ryuzo."

"He will pay for what he has done. He will pay drop for drop the blood he spilt from you," Jin told him softly. Very gently, Jin took Hato's hand and pressed a kiss to the palm before putting it to his own cheek. It was significant - it was considered disrespectful to touch a samurai's face without his express consent. "I have longed for that touch," Jin admitted. Hato frowned slightly.

"I am not objecting but...what changed your mind?" Jin smiled a sad smile that did not reach his eyes.

"An old friend reminded me how swiftly death comes. I...wanted to tell you how I felt...how I feel. I know it isn't the right time, that the Mongols must be our priority, but when we have dealt with them, I want you by my side, Hato. In Omi village. Your brothers, we will recover their bodies and we will bury them in my family cemetery, if you want." Hato blinked with surprise. Jin was offering to bind their two families together permanently with such an offer.

"Of course, my - Jin," he choked out, overcome with sudden emotion.

"Always 'Jin,'" Jin reminded him, cupping Hato's face in his hands.

"Jin," Hato whispered in a voice so soft it was nearly inaudible. His hand was still on Jin's cheek. Jin tipped his head forward so that his forehead bumped Hato's. They stood for a long moment like this until there was a soft knock at the shoji.

“A moment,” Jin called. He stepped back, but his movements were not urgent. He did not jump back from Hato as though he feared being caught. He simply gave Hato back his space and then turned to the door. “Come.”

A servant entered and brought in a tray.

“Here is some food, my lord, as you asked.”

“Thank you,” Jin answered, bowing. The servant sat the tray down and stepped from the room, closing the shoji doors behind him. "We won't need anything else this evening. Hato and I are not to be disturbed." The servant bowed and was gone. Jin and Hato shared the meal, chatting quietly, occasionally feeding one another a morsel of food, fingers trailing over one another's lips. Night fell upon the castle, bringing with it the soft chorus of crickets and the solo of a mournful nightingale.

After a lull in their conversation, Jin reached out a hand and began drawing gentle swirls on the back of Hato's arm, raising goosebumps on his skin.

"I have to leave soon. I insisted on staying while you recovered but...my uncle is losing patience and I promised to help him raise an army." Jin did not meet Hato's eyes when he said this, his own expression mournful.

“I understand but...I think that we...should perhaps curl together...within night's embrace," Hato quoted haltingly, his cheeks burning at what he was so brazenly suggesting. Jin gasped and looked up, his eyes going a little wide.

"I wondered what happened to those poems," he chuckled. Hato tugged the ivory comb that had been with the poems from his topknot, holding it out to Jin.

"You were in such a hurry to escape me," he teased.

"I was fleeing my own lust," Jin admitted, taking the comb. In its absence, Hato's hair fell free, red-black locks flowing around his handsome, angular face.

"Don't run from what you want," Hato breathed, putting his hand on Jin's side, "take it." He was begging Jin to do whatever he desired. Jin abruptly shoved the tray of food out of his way and descended upon Hato like a hawk.

*****

Their lips smashed together and Hato moaned softly as Jin pressed him hard to the floor. Hissing a curse, Jin pulled himself back.

“Your wounds, I am sorry.” Hato looked up at him with trusting brown eyes, his hair still a haze of flame around his face.

“Don't stop, Jin.” It was all the provocation Jin needed. Jin's hands loosened the knot he had tied in Hato's obi and Hato's kimono fell open, revealing a flat, hard belly and a soft tuft of red-black hair at the center of his chest and above the hem of his hakama. More deft movements and Hato's hakama was peeled away from him as well. Jin gently disrobed him, forcing his kimono off his shoulders and down his arms as efficiently as he had pulled it on earlier. Hato's fundoshi was pulled tight by his urgent interest and he let loose a soft moan as Jin's fingers wandered down his back and grasped at his muscular butt.

Hato's lips went to the curve of Jin's neck, nuzzling and nipping as he stripped Jin's armor from his body with quick, trained movements, all graceful motions of calloused fingers. It was his father's armor. Hato knew it well, knew exactly where all the ties and clips that held it together were. In moments they were both pressed together, the only thing separating their mingled interests the soft linen of their fundoshi.

Jin's hands wandered over Hato's body, massaging, touching, caressing every inch of him. When his fingers reached the ragged scab on his arm, he pulled it to his face, kissing the wound. Jin bent and pressed soft lips against Hato's scarred side, traveled down and tugged Hato's fundoshi to the side. Hato swallowed a moan as Jin's hand grasped him, and he sunk his fingers into Jin's shoulder. Hato threw his head back, goosebumps raising on his skin as at last, at long last, Jin placed his mouth where Hato had often imagined it. Looking down at the great Lord Sakai with Hato's cock between his plush lips sent a shock of desire through him over which he had no control. The delicious servitude of the action struck in a way that made thick droplets of precum ooze onto Jin's tongue.

What does this desire say about me? Hato wondered, a little embarrassed at how much this pleased him. Jin was not particularly adept at what he was doing, but the gusto with which he set about the task lent it pleasure that even skill could not provide. Jin moved his head, lapping and sucking, his hands grasping at the flesh between Hato's legs.

Hato moaned a sound of desperation, nearly undone and they had barely begun. "Jin," he whined, tangling his fingers around Jin's topknot to stop the eager sucking. He pulled Jin upwards, sorry to lose the sight of his cock in Jin's mouth, but glad to kiss him, to taste himself on Jin's soft tongue.

There was, in the quiet of the room, a brief, grasping struggle between them, both fumbling and grunting and resisting the touch of the other as each tried to gain control, as each made it clear that they wanted to sink into the other's flesh. Mumbling a curse, Jin frowned.

"Do you not want me, Hato?"

"Of course, do you not want me?" They lay on the goza mat, panting for a moment, flushed, both their erections jutting upwards in interest and frustration. Realization cross both their faces simultaneously and Hato shrugged. "I will take you as you wish, Jin."

"Let me," Jin half begged, half ordered, pressing Hato into the goza mat insistently and capturing his wrists so that Hato's hands were held firmly above his head. Panting, Hato squirmed, testing the strength of Jin's grip. He would have had a better chance of escape if he were locked in irons. In this moment, this was not Jin, but once again Lord Sakai, and it showed on his face.

Adjusting them on the goza mat, Jin sat across Hato's chest, pressing himself into his mouth and thrusting across his tongue with jutting rolls of his hips. Hato sucked and licked obediently, coughing when Jin hit a sensitive space at the back of his throat. He looked up with watering eyes to see Lord Sakai watching, biting his bottom lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. "Are you mine, Hato?" he asked as he pulled away. Hato gasped in a breath now that his mouth was free and answered, his eyes staring at Jin beneath hooded lids, a small, vulpine smile crossing his features.

"I have just had your _inkei_ down my throat and you have tasted me on your tongue, I think it is safe to say that we belong to one another...my lord," Hato purred, and he felt the tremble it sent through Jin.

"Good," Jin growled, and he flipped Hato so that he was pressed belly-first into the soft reed mattress, his cock pinned beneath him. Hato heard the sound of Jin reaching for a bottle of oil and felt Jin's slicked hand slide between his cheeks, pressing a finger against his entrance. Jin slid his finger inside and the noise that emanated from Hato was like a prayer to the gods, all raw desire tinged with ache. Hato threw his head back, his curtain of soft red-black hair in the way as he tried and failed to look over his shoulder at Jin. Jin used his free hand to gather up Hato's mane, tugging his head back and then kissing him hard as his other hand continued its ministrations. In a moment, Hato allowed himself to relax and Jin's seeking finger touched a place within him that made his toes curl and his eyelids flutter shut.

"Jin," he breathed, "please." Hato felt the head of Jin's cock pressing against his entrance and he leaned back against it, hearing Jin suck in a hard breath through his teeth.

"Hato," he choked as he sank inside of him, the fingers of his left hand digging into Hato's shoulder as his right hand kept its hold on Hato's hair. Jin began to roll his hips and Hato let his mouth hang open, panting in air with breathy moans punched out of him with every movement Reaching beneath him, Jin pinched one of his nipples and he yelped, thrashing in shock. "Shh," Jin shushed him, and Hato could hear the smile in his voice. "These shoji doors only block so much sound."

"My lord, please do not...pinch me," Hato finished lamely as Jin shoved himself home more deeply than with previous movements. Hato saw stars in the backs of his eyelids and shuddered at the sensation. Jin chuckled.

"How many times will I have to tell you to call me 'Jin'?" he asked. Hato snapped his hips back to meet Jin's thrust and he felt more than heard the other man groan, a vibration flowing through his muscular frame.

"At least once more, my lord," Hato challenged with a little grin. Jin uttered another warm laugh and pulled Hato's hair again, tugging his head to the side so he could kiss him again. Jin rutted himself inside of him until Hato had to bite one of his own knuckles to stop himself crying out in ecstasy. As though Jin knew Hato could not take much more, he pulled out of him with a wet noise and a grunt.

"Turn over," Jin ordered, and Hato instantly obeyed. Jin lifted one of Hato's legs and slung it up against his chest so that he could push the head of his cock back to Hato's entrance. Hato shuddered as Jin added his hand to the motion, stroking Hato's cock in time to his own thrusts. Hato felt his face reddening as Jin watched himself sinking into and out of his flesh. He felt so exposed before his former lord, so out of control. But he wanted this, this simple moment of ecstasy before they returned to war. He bit his lower lip, reaching up his hands to scratch at Jin's sides. He imagined for a moment returning the favor, still being the one lying on his back, but with Jin riding him. The thought so titillated him that Hato felt his orgasm growing irrevocably close and he gasped a high pitched noise of desire. Jin smirked and increased the tempo of his fingers over Hato's cock. "You are very handsome when you lose control, Hato."

"As are you...Jin." With that last, Jin's face softened and he bent forward to kiss Hato passionately as he continued with slow strokes within him and the faster strokes over his flesh. Hato felt Jin's back tighten beneath his hands, heard him choke out a strangled gasp as he emptied himself inside of Hato. Hato scratched his blunt fingernails down Jin's back and felt himself lose control entirely, his nerves sizzling with it as he spurted over Jin's hand and across his own belly.

Rolling to the side and out of Hato, Jin pulled him close, ignoring the mess. They were both breathing heavily even in the coolness of the room. The fine cloth beneath them that covered the mattress was tangled and sweat-stained. Neither of them found the energy to care. After a moment, Jin reached for a cloth nearby and wiped himself and Hato clean before pulling a fur-lined blanket over them both.

#####

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Hato breathed, stroking the line of Jin's jaw tenderly. Darkness had consumed the light outside and crickets sang loudly in the glow of the half-full moon. Jin smiled.

“I have been by your side every night while you slept. Of course, I will stay with you tonight. But...now that you have awakened...” Jin swallowed and Hato knew that this would likely be the only night they would be able to share together. Jin undoubtedly had other more pressing matters to attend to. Forcing away the thought of separation from Jin, Hato lived in the moment, cuddled into Jin's side with the other samurai's arm slung over his chest, and their legs tangled together in the blankets. He let his eyes flicker closed, relishing the ache between his legs. As he allowed sleep to overtake him, Hato breathed a prayer that the gods would bring them together again, no matter the cost.


	6. Act 2: Discipline and Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hato recovers from his wounds and his grief and trains to be a samurai. Given his own men to lead, he finds himself under Lord Shimura's watchful eyes and must be careful not to give his relationship with Jin away. Jin gives him something important and vows to see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you familiar with the invasion and subsequent capture of Tsushima Island by Mongolian forces in 1274 will know that the Mongols managed to defeat and subdue the forces in Tsushima in a little over two weeks. They then moved on to the mainland where their forces were ultimately defeated and beaten back, partly due to the help of two massive typhoons. 
> 
> For the sake of storytelling, I'm drawing the events on Tsushima Island out a bit longer than that, so please forgive any historical inaccuracies.
> 
> As usual, let me know what you think, I love getting comments! ^_^  
> \-----------------------------------------------

The training was grueling.

Hato was glad for it. Beneath the armor given to him by Lord Shimura, his body was drenched in sweat almost constantly. Nearly a week had passed since Jin had left him, nearly two since he had awoken to see the head of his brother held by a servant, but the memory was still just as fresh as the instant it had happened and the thought of it brought a wave of nausea and sorrow. So he was glad that Lord Shimura demonstrated little patience for his grief.

There would be time to mourn his brothers after the Mongols had been defeated. He would bury Washi and Hakuchō. in Omi village with his mother. She had been interred in Omi village with the blessing of Lord Kazumasa Sakai. Hato wondered absently if he should arrange for his father's remains to be moved from the temple grounds where they had been interred. Grunting when Lord Shimura swatted him across the shoulders with the flat of his blade, he forced himself to focus on the present, pushing away his musing.

“You are slumping, Akabane. Straighten your shoulders. Meet your opponent's eye,” he challenged, stepping around him, his weapon held at the ready.

“Yes, my lord.” Hato adjusted his grip on his katana and obediently held Lord Shimura's hawk-like stare.

“Now attack. Good. Watch your feet. Excellent. Try and land a blow. Careful. Parry. Good.” This instruction went on for hours until Hato's felt his arms trembling, until he could smell the salt that had dried on his skin and he longed for a hot meal and a long soak in an onsen pool. And still they continued, his training accelerated out of desperate need for capable warriors.

Lord Ishikawa returned to the castle at Lord Shimura's request, honing Hato's archery abilities. Hato was a good shot, but he was slow, and Ishikawa was not hesitant about pointing this out.

“You will never be able to stop your enemy if you must meditate and pray to the Buddha before every shot,” the old man admonished him in irritation, his sarcasm far from humorous for Hato, who darted a nasty look at the older man. "You and Sakai are two peas in one pod. No wonder he likes you." Caught off-guard by the comment, Hato abruptly released his grip on the bowstring he had pulled back. There was a whistle and a thud and Ishikawa snorted. Hato turned and looked - he had hit the target dead center. "Do that again," Ishikawa ordered. Hato, frustrated, pulled another arrow out and nocked it. He was aiming carefully, his shoulders trembling at the strength of the bow. Without warning, Ishikawa stomped on his toes.

"Bastard," Hato blurted, but the arrow had flown. Perfect center. Ishikawa barked a laugh.

"See? You think too much, Akabane. Aim and release. Stop writing poetry in your head about how beautifully the arrow flies...just loose it." Resisting the urge to call Ishikawa a few colorful terms under his breath, Hato obeyed. He loosed an arrow and it struck the center. He repeated the action again, and then once more. Ishikawa hummed a pleased sound.

"Good, we're done for the day. Now you can go back to daydreaming about Sakai." Hato nearly pulled a muscle in his neck whipping his head around to stare at Ishikawa in alarm.

"How do you know about...that?"

"A samurai observes the motivations of both his friends and his enemies. Sakai did not want to leave the castle until you were awake and from what I hear from servant's gossip, you cried out for him in your sleep. Even a blind man can see that the two of you are too close. Fortunately for you, Lord Shimura has other things on his mind. I would advise to you to rein in your...loyalty until after the Mongols are driven out."

"Would Lord Shimura punish me? Punish Jin?" Hato asked, unsure and horrified that they had been so foolish. Ishikawa half rolled his eyes, clearly agreeing that Hato was a fool.

"Oh, I imagine Lord Shimura would have you sent to the mainland when all of this is over to get you away from his nephew. He is determined to make Sakai his heir. He won't let you stand in the way of that." Ishikawa stared at Hato for a long moment, letting his words sink in. Then, he took the bow from Hato's hand and offered him a last piece of advice in an off-handed tone: "The two of you can play one another's shakuhachi all you want when this is over, but if I were you, I wouldn't let Lord Shimura hear of it." Hato's face was crimson with embarrassment at Lord Ishikawa's crude euphemism. He swallowed and nodded, staring after Ishikawa with his heart racing.

Once his archery was deemed "passable" by Lord Ishikawa, Hato went back to training directly under Lord Shimura. He was careful to remain intentionally aloof, never allowing his frustration or loneliness or sadness to be shown. Amid his roiling emotions, the training, the reading, the studying, the meetings he was required to attend and the strategies he was forced to put forth under extreme scrutiny might have destroyed a lesser man. But Hato kept going, despite the deep depression that hovered over him regarding his brothers' deaths and his indefinite separation from Jin. He was thankful for the exhaustion that kept any further nightmares about his brothers at bay. He was grateful for the deep and dreamless sleep that neither tormented him with dreams of revenge, nor tempted him with visions of Jin.

Jin...

Hato forced thoughts of him away, doing his best to take Ishikawa's advice. He had responsibilities now, priorities. He would not squander the gift he had been given. He practiced, and he practiced, and he practiced, day in and day out until his muscles screamed for him to stop and still he practiced. His wounds were mostly healed and he no longer felt the aching pull at his side and along the back of his arm as he dueled.

\-------------------------------------

A month passed and Lord Shimura, pleased with Hato's progress, set him to training some of the men who had been recruited to help as soldiers, most of them peasants from Yarikawa. Eager to prove his worth, Hato lined them all up, providing each with a bamboo rod. One of them made a disparaging comment about the use of bamboo instead of a sword.

“You,” Hato called, not about to tolerate such disrespect in his ranks. “What is your name?”

“Izuki.” There was no respect in his tone, and he glanced to his friends with an arrogant grin on his face without bowing to Hato. Hato considered pointing this out, but decided that his point could be made without words.

“Step forward, then, Izuki. You think you would do better with a sword?”

“Undoubtedly.” Hato nodded, hummed a sound of skepticism.

“All right, then.” He stepped to a chest containing spare weapons and selected a well-balanced katana that was the right length for the man. Bowing only his head, he offered it to Izuki in exchange for his bamboo rod. “Show me,” Hato said simply. Izuki looked to his fellow men, who all smirked or chuckled lowly in amusement.

Hato led Izuki to the dueling circle and took on the moon stance. Out of the corner of his eye, Hato could see someone approaching, undoubtedly come to watch the exchange. He ignored them.

“I might hurt you, my lord,” Izuki said in an amused tone and Hato could tell the “my lord” had only been tacked on as a forced formality. Hato gave a facial shrug.

“Perhaps.” Izuki rushed forward to begin the duel and Hato unknowingly let his lips curl into a satisfied smile. In the split second before he struck, he could see terror in Izuki's eyes. The man knew that he had made some egregious mistake, could see it written on Hato's face.

I really need to work on that, Hato thought.

The bamboo rod in Hato's grip struck the back of Izuki's hand with a sound like wood being chopped. The touch had been precise, hard enough to force the man to drop his blade, but gentle enough not to break bones. Izuki fell to his knees, holding his injured hand and whimpering.

“Anything may be used as a weapon by a man who knows the art of war,” Hato said simply, his eyes meeting each of the men's in turn. “Even water may move mountains.” He directed his gaze to Izuki, lowering his voice somewhat. “And even bamboo can cripple a warrior. Get up. It's time you learned something from your insolence. I was taught to respect those who deserve it.” He cocked his head at Izuki. “Were you?”

“Yes, my lord,” Izuki said softly, and he bowed low at the waist. Hato could see him flexing his hand painfully. Hato returned his bow with a shallow one and handed him back his bamboo rod.

“Pair up. We will work through the stances. Today bamboo. Tomorrow iron.” Hato had the men working until the sun began to sink into the west, its tired rays feebly illuminating the practice grounds. When he finally dismissed them, he could tell they had better respect for their weapons and had improved their stances. Leaving the practice area, the men shook out their arms, and clapped one another on the shoulders, talking and laughing as they carefully returned their bamboo rods to the box they were being stored in.

Pleased, Hato finally set down his own weapons, removing his helmet and wiping sweat from his forehead. When he looked out of the practice area for the first time since he had set foot in it, he was surprised to see that he still had an audience. His heart leapt, but he forced his face into an expression of complete neutrality.

“My lord,” he said, bowing low. Jin returned the bow and then smiled. “How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough for me to wonder how you ever lost a duel.”

Hato chuckled sheepishly.

“I would say that it was because I was out of practice, but that would be a lie. You are a far better swordsman than I, my lord.”

"Maybe. But from what I hear from my uncle, you've become quite the samurai under his guidance. I'm proud of you, Hato." Hato could feel his cheeks glowing with mingled embarrassment and pride. He bowed again, a quick, shallow bow that conveyed his gratitude at the statement better than words ever could. "I'm not here long. Just stopped by with Yuna and her brother with more troops from Yarikawa. It looks like you have things well under control so...I should go." A look of frustration crossed Hato's face, but he squashed it and returned his features to a dull expression. He opened his mouth as though to speak, to bid Jin farewell, just as Jin spoke again.

"But, before I go, I would be honored if you would fight me again, show me what you've learned?"

Hato's breath caught in his throat and he forced himself to deliberately not look at Jin's lips, forced himself to behave as though he did not want to take Jin to his private quarters and ravish him until he could not walk straight. A duel was not what he wanted but...truth be told, he wanted to be close to Jin, even if close meant “locked in combat with.”

"I, too, would be honored, my Lord. Jin," he finished, allowing himself this small expression of affection. Jin's expression softened hearing his name spoken so casually.

“How are your wounds?” Jin asked. Hato could tell that he was struggling not to reach out a hand, not to step into his personal space. Hato gifted him with a small, shy smile before answering.

“Healed. There will be scars, but there is no longer any pain.”

“Hmm.” Jin stepped into the practice area and Hato stood across from him, hand on the hilt of his katana.

“Are you ready?” In answer, Jin slid his sword loose and stalked forward, his gaze intent. He kept his eyes trained on Hato's eyes, and when Hato slid in close for an attack, Jin merely flicked it away. Regrouping, Hato side-stepped, adjusting his form from water to stone. In the split second that his blade slid through his gaze and blocked his view, Jin attacked, leaping forward with a whirling kick that knocked Hato back. Growling with frustration now, Hato danced to the side and struck, the tip of his blade clanging against Jin's side. Jin huffed a small, impressed laugh as he rolled out of the way and darted behind Hato, swinging his blade in an arc that would have connected with Hato's shoulder had he not whirled and parried in turn.

“Excellent,” Jin smiled and Hato felt his chest warm. Focus, he told himself, swallowing.

“I've had plenty of time to practice,” Hato told him easily. Three weeks ago, he would already have been out of breath, would already be struggling to keep his blade straight. Now he held it with calm resolution on his face. He had learned sword forms as a child, had studied Sun Tzu, had done all the things an aspiring samurai would have done and now he had the title and training to match the skills. Jin's eyes still held his and Hato smiled slightly, realizing he had a tell Jin was exploiting. Fair enough, now he knew it, and now he could use it too. He glanced to the left and Jin's weight shifted in that direction, but Hato feinted, deftly striking Jin under his other side, sparks flying from blade and armor.

Clearly surprised at Hato's deftness, Jin laughed, darting backwards.

“That was very good. But you'll have to do better than that to win the duel,” Jin teased, staying loose and moving in place like a cat stalking its prey. Hato gave a little shrug and stepped to the side as Jin attacked. Their blades met and he held the stance calmly. He was reminded of his fight with Ryuzo, realized now how he should have handled himself, realized that any enemy underestimating him was a valuable advantage.

“My lord knows the way of the blade, and he is very brave,” Hato told Jin as they struggled for dominance. Jin finally conceded and stepped back, deftly avoiding an attack of opportunity from Hato. Unperturbed, Hato stepped in close again and flicked his sword first to Jin's right, which he parried, and then with a lightning fast motion, to his left, the blade once again touching armor. “ _Very_ brave,” Hato went on, allowing himself the slightest of smirks, “but also _very_ wrong about how well I am doing in this fight.”

Jin had just enough time to frown before the front of his _do,_ the tough curass that covered his chest, swung abruptly toward his sword arm, swinging from the knots that still held it to his left side. Hato heard Jin swear and then darted forward again, his blade merely touching the silk knot that held the kasazui plates over his right thigh. They fell from Jin's leg and clattered to the ground, leaving his leg protected by nothing but his linen hakama.

For an instant, a look of pure, unadulterated murder and barely controlled rage crossed Jin's fine features and Hato sobered, wondering if he had, at last, crossed a boundary that no amount of affection or friendship could bridge. That was, after all, his father's armor. Dropping to one knee, Hato put his katana end-first into the ground and kept his hand on the pommel, bowing his head.

“My apologies, my lord.” Hato waited for some form of judgment and was surprised to hear soft laughter emanating from Jin.

“Why are you bowing, Hato? You won,” Jin told him sheepishly, picking up his kasazui and holding his do across his chest with a slight look of annoyance. “Neat trick,” he intoned, walking over and helping Hato back to his feet. Hato chuckled.

“I trained for years to find the weakness in armor. Your father's armor is no exception. I can fix it for you.”

“I would be honored,” Jin told him warmly. “I still wear the other armor you made me but...when I visit my uncle...”

“I understand,” Hato cut him off. He frowned slightly, glancing over Jin's shoulder to where Lord Shimura was watching, his arms crossed over his chest. How long had he been standing there? What had he seen? Had they seemed too close? Too familiar? It was dark now, but torches still illuminated the practice arena well enough. Jin turned to look and gave a shallow bow, which Hato mimicked, though more deeply.

"My lord," Hato said in a respectful tone, keeping his eyes averted.

"Uncle," Jin chirped.

"An interesting strategy, Akabane. But not an effective one against foes who wear armor you did not craft," Lord Shimura said dryly, clearly unimpressed.

"Deepest apologies, my lord," Hato said, bowing again. "I was merely offering my services..." He had not the faintest idea how to end the sentence he had begun. "Erm...I was showing Jin that...I...uhm...I'll fix the armor," he finished lamely, his cheeks burning. Shimura hummed a noise of disapproval.

"You are a samurai, not a craftsman. Not anymore."

"Taka can repair my armor, Uncle," Jin answered, intervening before Hato was scolded further.

"Very well. I had a workshop arranged for him in the eastern courtyard. Leave your armor with him and meet me in my quarters," Lord Shimura ordered, with a last frowning glance at Hato.

"Yes, Uncle," Jin agreed. He turned back to Hato as soon as his uncle was gone. "I've missed you," he said simply.

"And I you, Jin. Quickly, I'll take your armor to Taka. You don't want to keep your uncle waiting."

"I wish I could stay," Jin murmured, beginning to undo the knots that held the rest of his armor together as Hato helped him. Hato slid his hands across Jin's form as he slipped the armor from him, leaving him in his simple kimono and hakama.

"It is enough to know that you wish it," Hato answered, gathering up the armor. Jin looked at him longingly.

"Next time, Hato." Hato nodded and smiled.

"Next time." Hato began to walk away, but Jin grabbed his hand, pulled him back with a soft sigh.

"I don't know when I'll see you next," Jin murmured, planting a soft kiss on Hato's lips. Hato softened beneath his touch, despite his fear of being caught. "I had to do that, in case I don't get a chance to again. Here. Think of me when you wear it," Jin ordered him, pulling out a soft red-black headband with gold kanji on it. "Red. To match your hair."

"'Loyalty,'" Hato read, his fingers brushing the gold thread of the kanji as he took it. He met Jin's eyes and kissed him again after checking to be sure they were not being observed. "Your uncle will ask where it came from." Jin leaned in close and squeezed Hato's thigh suggestively, murmuring his next words softly in Hato's ear.

"I never said you had to wear it around your head, Hato." Hato gave a nervous chuckle, blushing to the tips of his ears and nodding.

"I will wear it until I see you again, Jin."

\-----------------------------------

"Tricks are not the bushido way," Lord Shimura lectured as he paced his side of the practice arena, wooden practice katana in hand. Hato nodded slightly, knowing that the older man was referring to the playful duel with Jin a week before. "And removing your enemy's armor is not so easy if you do not know how it is made." Neither of them were wearing armor and their weapons were of wood instead of metal. This time, Hato could tell, Lord Shimura was testing him. If he did not win this duel, he knew some serious consequence would come of it.

They faced one another, bowed, and then the duel began, each pacing around the other, their eyes locked. Lord Shimura was light on his feet for a man of his age, fast and lithe. His blade struck like a viper and Hato had to work hard to dodge his blows. He kept his side profile to Lord Shimura, presenting a smaller target, dancing in and out of range, successfully landing a blow once, a hard strike to Shimura's knee. He stumbled, but caught himself easily, shifting his weight to favor his other leg instead.

Lord Shimura caught Hato's next attempt to touch him, and Hato's arms, which had trembled when he first began his training, were like iron, unyielding despite his more experienced opponent's strength. He met Lord Shimura's eyes steadily.

"Your form is excellent," Shimura forced out through bared teeth, and Hato could feel him shifting his feet. Hato prepared himself for the inevitable sweep. It came, Shimura's left leg attempting to wipe Hato's right foot from beneath him. Hato leapt straight up, whirled backwards and, as Shimura was off guard, darted forward, landing a blow with the end of his wooden blade right in Shimura's gut. The older man huffed out a hard breath and swatted low with his own sword, aiming the weapons' path for Hato's thighs. Again, Hato leapt, jumping over the intended blow and then swinging his blade around to stop just at Shimura's unprotected neck. They were both breathing heavily and Shimura held a hand to his gut, wincing slightly, but he gave a soft laugh. "One would think you are a bird with the way you fly, Akabane," he said with a small, approving nod. "You are ready."

"Ready, my lord?"

"To help our people. I've received word of a group of peasants taken captive by Mongolians northwest of here. Find them. Free them and return to me."

"My men..."

"Will continue their training with me. Go, Hato. Free our people."

"Yes, my lord."

"You will need a horse. There is one in the stables, a black stallion. He is young and thin, but he will serve you well. There is a saddle for you there as well."

"Thank you, my lord," Hato said, bowing low. He packed a light bag, pulling on his armor and trotting to the stables, excited to see his new horse. It whickered softly, its nose nuzzling him, searching for a treat. He offered it a dried carrot, which it munched on happily as he saddled it. When he was ready, he pulled himself up. "Easy, horse," he told it awkwardly. "Erm...what shall I call you?" He thought for a moment, thinking of Jin's proud dappled gray stallion, Sora. "Kage," he murmured. The horse snorted and pawed the ground. "It's a good name," Hato assured him.

Before he placed his foot in his stirrup, Hato loosened the material of his hakama around his calf and rolled the material up. Around his thigh was tied the beautiful red headband that Jin had given him. Free from Lord Shimura's watchful eyes now that he was leaving the castle, Hato untied it from his leg and placed it around his forehead instead, his chest warming at the thought of his lover. He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath in through his nose. The sooner he helped drive these Mongol dogs from their land, the sooner he could be with Jin. "Come on, Kage. Let's go."


End file.
